Burns
by reignofblood
Summary: "Why didn't you heal yourself?" "What's it to you…of all people you ought to be the least bothered by my face..." The Fire Nation has won. The Avatar is dead. Zuko and Katara's fates intertwine as both suffer under the tyranny of fire.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Burns

**Author:** reignofblood

**Fandom:** Avatar the Last Airbender

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Zutara

**Summary:** Ozai kills Aang before the Day of Black Sun and captures the gang. Zuko and Katara's fates intertwine as both suffer under the tyranny of fire.

**Disclaimer:** ATLA belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon. I'm just borrowing their universe and characters to satisfy my (and probably your) OTP fantasies which the canon failed to grant me.

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Prologue

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"She's awake."

"How can you tell, she hasn't moved since Chun burned her face."

"He singed off a pretty decent chunk of hair, too."

"Pity, she was a pretty one. But really, how do you know she's awake."

"My last post was three years at Boiling Rock; I know a fighter when I see one. Believe me, she's awake and waiting for the next opportunity to make a run for it."

"Well she's almost out of time," the guard glanced out the small barred window of the ship's prison hold, "I can see the shoreline already."

"Wonder what they're going to do with her in court. She'll need more than your average lazy guard and dank cell to hold her captive." the other guard turned to the limp body lying in the small cell before them. "But then again, the prince might take a liking to her."

"What's that supposed to mean? She's barely a woman yet."

"The prince is hardly a grown man himself, but in any case, I suppose her face is ruined now anyway."

"Really, it is a pity."

* * *

The wooden planks of the prison floor had cracked and splintered with age, the moisture of the sea water collecting along the rough notches and impresses of the wood. The first and last time she had tried to escape, Katara had bent enough moisture from the wood floor to break the lock of her cell and make a run for the stairs up to the deck. While the guard nearer to her in the prison hold had been too stunned to reach her in time, the other guard at the top of the stairs was able to stop her with a bolt of fire – straight to the face.

Now, Katara had her fresh burns pressed against the cool wooden planks, letting the moisture of the floor sap away the sting and the gentle churning of the waves soothe her soul.

Katara was tired. She had fought when Ozai's men ambushed them right before the Day of Black Sun. She had fought when her father's ship sank. She had fought when Ozai emerged from the troops to kill the Avatar himself. She had fought when Aang fell. She had fought when Ozai won. Even as she watched first Suki, then Sokka, and finally Toph give up, Katara had fought, fought, fought.

But now, Katara had stopped fighting.

They had locked each of them in separate cells, and, after that initial escape attempt, Katara began to let herself be taken. By the guards back to her cell. By their defeat to her despair. By Aang's death to an emotionless void.

It was too much for her mind to process and before tears could form her subconscious had chosen to block everything out to save her from insanity. All Katara could feel now was the itch of the wood grain against her cheek and the chill of sea water against her burns.

Twenty-four hours ago, the guard would not have been wrong in calling her a fighter. But Katara was not a fighter anymore.

Now, Katara was only broken.


	2. Match

**A/N: So yes I know the first chapter was super short BUT it was just a prologue blurb-y thing that I wanted to get out. Only great big chapters from here on out okay? As for why Katara doesn't just heal her burns, so far she's still deep in denial so it's not something she's even thinking about yet. And rest assured, I didn't just make her get burned so I can make that the pithy title – just be patient for now, I'll get into all of that in time mkay? ^_^ Now on to the story!**

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Chapter 1: Match

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The room was dead silent.

Zuko breathed heavily, chest moving, breathe steaming, eyes bulging.

Scattered before him were the shards of a vase, most likely an antique, probably painted with some legend of his ancestors. There was a dent in the red and gold wallpapered wall level with his face where the vase made impact.

Behind him were a dozen councilmen, an assortment of high-ranking admirals, jaded nobles, and wealthy men who had paid their way into court. He could hear their mouths gaping, bodies frozen with astonishment at his outburst.

Zuko was shaking.

He didn't know why he did it. The moment a councilman had announced his father's victory over the Avatar, Zuko felt a sudden white-hot burst of something course through his body that made every hair on his body stand on end and the tips of his fingers crackle electric. He couldn't tell if it was anger or disappointment, only that its intensity compelled him to pick up the nearest object and throw it full force into the wall.

He could still feel the heat burning a hole through his gut, a violent energy that demanded to be expended.

Zuko shut his eyes and exhaled sharply.

"Tell Azula to start preparations for the festivities," he spat out the words quick like poison. "Father will want to celebrate when he arrives."

Without turning to face the council, still stunned in their seats, Zuko walked out, letting the heavy wooden door shut loudly in his wake.

The walk from the meeting rooms to his personal chambers was long. It was times like these when he regretted having chosen a bedroom in the extremities of the palace, so far from its main body.

He walked faster, the burning energy still coursing through his veins, pulsing with every heartbeat, every breath. He glared straight ahead, ignoring the faceless servants and nobles loitering in the hallways.

Zuko tugged at the stiff collar of his imperial robes, flickering blood red in the light of the torches lining the walls. As he turned into a less populated hallway, he tore off the crown prince's headpiece that Azula had forced him to wear upon his return. If it hadn't been Iroh who had given him the headpiece, Zuko would have thrown it away long ago. Now, it was once again only the memory of his uncle that kept him from hurling it against a wall.

Finally, he arrived at his private quarters. He jerked open the door and slammed it behind him as he tossed the headpiece off to the side where it glanced off a piece of furniture, ringing dully.

He ripped off the suffocating robes and threw them to the ground. Only now did Zuko realize how hard he was breathing, gulping for air in rough gasps with a stitch in his side that only compounded the ache in his abdomen. He could feel beads of sweat coursing down his neck and back. His head pounded with blood.

He backed into a wall, sliding down to sit with his head between his knees. He drew his still quivering hands up into his hair, grasping at the dark locks to stop his shaking.

The Avatar was dead.

Ozai had killed the Avatar.

The last airbender was dead.

The Fire Nation had won.

The little boy with the arrow tattoos and stupidly happy grin was dead.

Zuko had no interest in sorting through his feelings at this moment but there they were, worming their way into his consciousness, demanding to be felt.

He couldn't deny – didn't particularly want to deny – that a part of him expected never to see his father again when he had left a few days ago to attack the Avatar and his motley crew of supporters. He had thought that the Avatar, in spite of his youth, his naiveté and his inexperience, possessed an otherworldly power unknown and superior to the Firelord. He was not prepared for the object of his three-year long pursuit of restitution to be snuffed out. Just like that.

And now, Ozai had more power than any other being on the planet. The Air nomads were now finally and totally extinguished. The Earth Kingdom had been fully crushed and subjugated to the Fire Nation, under Azula's direct command. The Northern Water Tribe, in spite of their successful resistance during the Siege of the North, was now down to its last leg, Admiral Zhao finally having took its capital just weeks before.

If his father was the most powerful man in the world, what did that make Zuko? A sickly momma's boy whose mother had long since vanished. A weak bender whose younger sister bested him at every turn. A banished prince whose honour could only be granted by his sister's lies and his father's good will.

In the world of Ozai and Azula you could only be strong or weak, powerful or powerless. In their world, there was only fire and ashes. In their world, the Avatar did not exist and harmony, balance, and peace existed only in myth.

In their world, in _this_ world…

Zuko was nothing.

* * *

Katara could feel the ship docking.

In spite of her undeniable exhaustion and efforts to remain unresponsive, she couldn't help but feel through her bending the churning of the seawater all around her. She could sense the rain above decks and the rising ocean floor below.

…She could feel the blood flowing in the guards and the other soldiers on the ship.

But whereas before the water could have been her weapon or at least a comfort, it was now merely a nuisance.

"Get the prisoners ready," called a voice from above.

Katara's guards moved towards her cell.

"Wait," called the voice. "Not that one, take the others up and to the prison first. She goes last."

It had been easy to shut herself off during the journey, but now, at the mention of "the others", her brother, Suki, and Toph no doubt among them, Katara finally woke to her surroundings.

She tried to open her eyes, only to find them glued shut by the few rebellious tears that managed to escape her close guard. Slowly, she lifted a hand – the first time she had moved since being shoved back into her cell – to rub her eyes.

All at once the pain erupted like lava over her face.

Her hand had brushed against the worst of the burn, where her right cheek met her nose. But now, as the pain finally registered, Katara could feel the burn extend across almost the whole of her face, from the corner of left eye, across most of her nose and around her cheek to her hairline. The guard had struck her with his right fist from above, her right cheek taking the worst of the heat but the fanned out flames singeing off all of the hair to the right of her face and past her earlobe.

Her left eye and cheek were still pressed to the floor but she could feel a liquid slowly coursing past her nose and mouth to the ground. It could have been blood or more tears, but Katara was already somewhere else. Feeling a pain much worse than her physical ones.

She had watched Aang die. She saw his body fall, limp and lifeless. She couldn't have been able to tell from a distance that he was dead, but she knew. It was over.

Before she could hold back the floodgates any longer, the memories came bursting forth. Flashes of Aang engulfed in ice in the South Pole. Aang dancing in the cave, a headband across his forehead. Aang learning earthbending, mouth skewed in frustration. So vibrant, young, _alive_.

She could feel a vacuum opening up in her core, sucking out her will to block the memories, resist the pain. She drew her knees up to her chest, pressed her disfigured face into them and let the tears come.

* * *

"What's the matter, Zuzu?" Azula sneered at Zuko across the breakfast table, stirring her steaming tea with an elegantly manicured hand.

Zuko groaned inwardly. He hadn't slept all night. He was not prepared to deal with Azula this morning.

And, as always, she knew it.

"Nothing, I'm fine." he muttered, averting his eyes from Azula's cool stare.

"Aren't you happy the war is over? I would've assumed that some of Uncle Iroh's peaceful cooperation philosophies would've rubbed off on you." She took a sip of her tea.

How he loathed her.

"Of course I'm happy. Father won. The Avatar is finally dead. What more could I want."

"Hmm," Azula looked wistfully out the window at the gentle rainfall outside. "Unless, of course, you're worried that Father will revoke your honour now that he knows the Avatar actually was alive the whole time."

Zuko stiffened. When Azula had lied for him he hadn't disputed it. Azula was a born liar and the Firelord hadn't doubted her account for a second.

But Azula was selfish and manipulative before all else.

She had guessed what Zuko himself had only an inkling of; that the Avatar was still alive and in hiding. She lied not for his sake, but for her own. Rather than marring her perfect conquest of Ba Sing Se with a botched assassination attempt, she had given Zuko what they both knew to be a failure but that everyone else would see as a victory.

She had sent her own spies in search of the Avatar and his friends, and, once she had found them, revealed the truth to Ozai. The Firelord spared his first-born son not a second thought as he and Azula planned the attack. It was to be right before the Day of Black Sun, when Azula knew the Avatar would be waiting, utterly unsuspecting, to attack the Palace during the solar eclipse.

Azula's flawless plan had worked beautifully. Not only was the Fire Nation now free of their greatest opposition, but she had also managed to jeopardize Zuko's succession in the process without implicating herself in the least.

Truly, Azula made art out of manipulation.

Zuko grit his teeth. "The Avatar is dead now and that's all that matters."

"I notice you're not wearing your headpiece today," Azula took another sip of her tea, smirking behind her cup.

"I just couldn't be bothered." Zuko clenched his hands beneath the table.

"I expect Father will be back sometime today, you would do well to put on something a little more formal to welcome him back."

Azula's mouth twitched.

"You know what a fan he is of tradition."

* * *

"What's happening?" the same voice as before called down again from above decks.

A horrible, blood-curdling noise was emerging from the prison hold.

"She's…crying."

The guards were more cautious than stunned by Katara's sudden movement after having lain still for so long, fearing still that she would attempt escape.

"Well, make her stop and get her up here. They're ready for her now." And the voice was gone.

Katara was oblivious to everything outside the blackness consuming her from within. She barely registered the guards dragging her out of her cell, restraining her hands unnecessarily to prevent her from bending. Only when they reached the top of the stairs and the sun hit her burns did she snap into reality.

The rain had stopped. The sun was now out and blazing in full force. Katara could feel the hot rays of light like daggers against her face.

Sokka, Suki, and Toph were nowhere in sight. All that she could see was red. Red in the armor of the soldiers and guards. Red in the Fire Nation flags lined up along the dock, waving in welcome of their nation's heroes.

Red in the face of a man who had been but a boy the last time she'd seen him.

* * *

No matter how much Azula taunted him, Zuko, for the time being, was still the crown prince. Which was why he now sat in one of the only two seats in the pavilion overlooking the port where his father's ships would soon be docking. The other, of course, was reserved for the Firelord, although the likelihood of him wanting to watch his men unload cargo were slim to none.

In any case, that made Zuko the only person to be sitting in the nearby vicinity. The rest of the royal company had to stand.

Including Princess Azula.

Zuko's small satisfaction was overcast, however, by the sheer monotony of waiting for the ships to reach port. The Firelord's ship led the small fleet, and Zuko tapped his foot anxiously watching it appear in the haze of the horizon and loom steadily closer.

His anxiety was not lost on Azula, who watched almost gleefully at Zuko's mounting discomfort.

"You know he probably won't even care about your – ah – situtation," She put a hand against the back of Zuko's chair. "He's got plenty else to think about first before dealing with you."

"So I'm a nuisance, how reassuring." Zuko scowled.

It had been widely rumoured that Firelord Ozai planned on re-crowning himself Phoenix King and supreme ruler of the world on the day of Sozin's Comet in a few weeks time. As such, the matter of establishing his heir to the Fire Nation throne had quickly become of imminent importance.

Given recent events, and historical precedent, Ozai may very well choose to make his second-born, Azula, the Firelord over his first-born, Zuko.

Even before Azula had conclusively proven the Avatar living, Zuko's situation had been precarious. Now, he would be lucky if his father even graced him with the opportunity to Agni Kai.

Nevertheless, he was still the crown prince. And the crown prince had to be present to welcome the Firelord home from his great victory.

As his father's ship neared the port, Zuko and the rest of the royal welcome committee moved down to the dock to greet him. Zuko could feel every inch of cloying silk fabric clinging to his sweaty skin. He could feel the burning sunshine amplify his agitated energy.

Firelord Ozai stepped off the ship. He approached Zuko's party, his personal guards shuffling in his wake. He stopped before Azula, congratulated her curtly on her impeccable strategy, and moved on. He didn't look at Zuko.

Azula shot him a smug look and turned to follow her father towards the carriages.

Zuko stayed rooted on the spot but before he could decide whether to be insulted or relieved, he saw her.

Her piercing blue eyes caught his even from afar. He remembered the first and last time he truly looked into her eyes, deep in the crystal catacombs underneath Ba Sing Se. He remembered how her icy glares melted into understanding and trust.

He remembered how she had screamed at him, angry words vilifying his betrayal.

Above all, he remembered how her own eyes had betrayed her; their cool blue tinged more with disappointment than anger.

But now, her eyes were blank, glazed over with a horrifying emptiness. Zuko was almost relieved when he saw them flash with anger – undiluted this time – as she registered his face.

And then he saw her's.

The waterbender's face was almost beyond recognition. A burn that puckered red and pink slashed across her entire face. Almost the whole of her right cheek had been engulfed in flames and was now bright and raw, cracked and peeling under the relentless sunshine. At least a third of her long wavy tresses had burned away, leaving only uneven charred chunks of brown fluff.

Before he knew it, Zuko's feet were carrying him towards the waterbender. Later, he would be unable to recall why he wanted to go to her.

But somewhere underneath his genuine horror, Zuko had realized that, in a twisted, perverse way, they now matched.


	3. Meeting

Chapter 2: Meeting

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Katara had let down her guard in the crystal catacombs. She had forgotten the person she was talking to. Of the same blood as Azula. Prince of the Fire Nation. Evil. Manipulative. Power-hungry. Honour-obsessed.

This time would be different, she thought, steeling herself as the Prince made his way to her.

He had changed since their last meeting. He had obviously forsaken his Earth kingdom garb for the red robes of the Fire Nation royalty. His hair was tied up in a severe topknot, with a headpiece of gold flames sticking out the top. As a result, his face was now fully exposed, his scar once again visible from the corner of his eye to where it disappeared into his hairline.

She had forgotten how bad it looked.

The guards halted as he drew nearer. He stopped three feet away and took her in.

Katara clenched her teeth and raised her chin defiantly, willing away the tears still streaking across her face. She could feel the burns across her face pulsing.

Her hands shook.

"Where are you taking her?" he turned to the guards.

"To the west wing dungeons, your majesty," one of them replied.

Katara saw his golden eyes widen. Nostrils flare. Mouth open and close. In confusion, anger, horror?

"But that's for –"

"Direct orders from the princess, your highness," the other guard said quickly.

A pause. Now that he was closer, Katara could see clearly the changes that had taken place since the crystal caves. The Prince stood with his shoulders back, chest out, but as though it took considerable effort to keep them that way. He held his chin up; neck elongated to seem taller and more imperious, but was still at least a head shorter than the guards. His golden eyes were cold but above all tired.

They met hers now. Gold on blue. Katara could feel her exhaustion wearing away at her resolve, her icy exterior melting under his scrutiny and seeping out through her pores. It took so much to hate. It was so much easier to let go.

_No_.

She wrenched her gaze away from his.

And spat in his face.

There was a moment of silence, stillness. Then, a flurry of movement.

"NO!" The guards had tightened their grip and moved to – _what?_ She wondered indifferently. Restrain her? Punish her? In any case, they halted at the prince's command.

He wiped his face with a silk sleeve, then: "You'll take her to the north-eastern tower."

"But the princess–"

"You can tell her she's been overruled." He paused. "And you would do well to remember who I am and what I can do to you." He turned and stalked away.

There was a reluctant edge to his voice on his last words.

And Katara noticed.

* * *

She had looked even worse up close. And it wasn't because of her injuries.

Her blank eyes, once so full of fire and passion, had horrified him even from afar but at close proximity Zuko was hit full force by the waves of sheer exhaustion and desolation emanating from her entire body. Her skin hung loosely off her flesh, almost devoid of its usual warmth or colour. Her lips were crusted over with chapped skin and dried blood, evidence of how long she had been starved of water. Her entire being dripped with fatigue from the droop of her shoulders to the shaking of her knees. She was barely living; so spent, so drained was she of energy and emotion.

But her eyes…her eyes…

They bore into the depths of his being with blades of ice. They tore out every scrap of pathetic dignity he had managed to scrape by and engulfed them in flames of ice-cold malice. They ground his despicably begotten honour to dust and buried the remains under mountains of guilt.

She saw past his paltry façade of luxurious silks and royal reds to the vile and repugnant lowlife that he was. She renounced, in a single look, all of the honour that so many years of hunting, so infinite a moment of resolution, so hard-won his father's approval had finally restored to him. She confirmed finally, ultimately, and absolutely all that Zuko fought so hard to deny.

He was surprised that she hadn't spat in his face the moment he was within range.

Zuko sighed, weariness creeping into his gait as he made his way towards the tower. It had been a long day to say the least, and now, in the darkest hour of night exactly half-way between sunset and sunrise he was going to see her. The late hour corresponded less to his wish to remain discreet than it did to his relentless insomnia. He knew that Azula would find out about his late-night visit anyway and moreover a confrontation about his overruling her direct orders was inevitable.

…The west wing prisons were essentially holding cells for prisoners sentenced to death – or about to be. If Azula had ordered the waterbender to be held there then she must have decided it wasn't worth the effort to keep her captive.

And once Azula decided to destroy someone, their fate was all but sealed…

Zuko shuddered at the thought, quickening his pace as he neared the tower. He had chosen the waterbender's new prison for its proximity to his own quarters, and, by extension, its distance from his sister and father's.

He pulled back the hood of his cloak as he approached the guarded entrance to make sure the guard would recognize him and let him pass without contest. As an afterthought, he flicked back the hair over his eyes to make his scar more visible and his face more recognizable in the dark.

He saw the guard hesitate briefly before bowing and unlocking the door, the words "your majesty" tumbling from his lips. Zuko ignored him, entering the tower.

There were several cells in this tower with each being more heavily guarded than the last the farther up one went. Zuko climbed past each floor soundlessly until he reached the single cell on the uppermost floor. Three guards stood poised at the thick iron door. Like the guard at the entrance, they hesitated upon recognizing their prince.

"Let me in." Zuko looked at the guards, all of who loomed over him in their armor, and tilted his chin up.

"Uh…your majesty…the princess prohibited–"

"The princess has no power over me." Zuko growled. "And I should not have to persuade my own subjects into obeying my commands."

The guards looked at one another. "Of course, your majesty…" They turned to face the door, assuming identical firebending stances before blasting the door in three separate places to unlock it.

"You're dismissed." He said to the guards. "Leave the door unlocked and guard the main entrance until I leave."

This time, the guards didn't hesitate but merely bowed their heads and made their way down the steps.

Zuko took a deep breath as the door swung open, revealing a dark room with only a small barred window to let in the cool night air and dim moonlight.

She sat in the corner directly left of the door so that she wasn't immediately visible to those who entered the room. Zuko ducked his head as he stepped through the doorway, turning towards her. She had propped herself up against the wall but her head still lolled tiredly to one side, unkempt hair swept across her face. Now, she straightened, her body stiffening at the sight of her visitor.

Zuko watched as her eyes hardened, jaw clenched, lips set in a thin line and turned down in a ferocious scowl to rival his own.

"What do you want." The coldness of her tone was diminished by the rasp of her dry throat, obviously still parched from lack of water.

Zuko wondered how they would keep her alive without ever giving her something to drink.

_But Azula doesn't plan on keeping her alive. _He reminded himself.

He turned back to the stairwell where the guards had descended just moments before and pulled the door shut behind him before venturing further into the cell.

She flinched at the sound of metal on metal.

He pretended not to notice, instead looking out the small window at the sliver of moon hanging in the inky sky.

"Why didn't you heal yourself?"

In the silence, he could hear her flinch again – in surprise this time – at his offhanded inquiry.

"Why do you care." Her voice was guarded…but only barely so; even just from her voice he could tell how tired she was.

Zuko paused. Why _did_ he care?

"You could've healed it before," he said. "Now it'll scar."

"What's it to you," she scoffed. "Of all people you ought to be the least bothered by my face."

He whirled around to face her once more. She flinched again at the sudden movement.

"Don't."

"Hit a nerve, have I? Or are you just upset you didn't get to inflict this on me yourself."

"You haven't answered me," he said, looking down at her. She glared back.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly on an oasis here."

"That's not it," he narrowed his eyes. "If you needed to you could have bent the moisture out of your surroundings. Especially when you were on the ship."

She didn't answer.

Zuko gave an exasperated sigh. "I didn't come all this way just to hear silence."

"You didn't come all this way just to ask about my injuries," she said quietly.

"That's irrelevant."

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall once more. "I thought it would be pointless to heal myself."

"Would it?"

She opened her eyes to look at him blankly. "I don't know. Isn't that something I should be asking you?"

This time, he was the one to not answer.

"You used the spirit water on him didn't you."

She inhaled sharply, looking away and down into her lap. She was silent, but he could hear her shuddering breaths and see her quivering hands against the worn red fabric of her fire nation garb.

"You shouldn't have saved him. He was never the beacon your people could rally behind. He was too young. Too innocent. For god's sake he was a _vegetarian_." Zuko paused. "You could have saved your magic water and you could have saved yourself."

Her head snapped up. "Even if I still had the spirit water I would never use it on you," she spat, lip curled and brow knitted in anger.

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh really, well forgive me if I find your concern hard to believe. We both know what a little actor you can be when–"

"I wasn't acting in the caves." Zuko took a step closer to her. "And don't pretend like you understand me. You don't know what it is to live with my burdens. You think the world is painted in black and white – but it isn't. You're naïve and idealistic, just like he was. You don't understand that there is more than just good and evil. And you don't understand what it is to make difficult choices, to make sacrifices."

"Don't you dare talk to me about sacrifices." Her voice was dangerously low and she was shaking now, no longer with exhaustion but with fury. "You couldn't imagine the kind of loss I have had to deal with in this war. You with your wealth and your blood and your _honour_. All you know is how to be selfish. All you care about is your self: your pride, your crown, your nation. If I'm idealistic, then you're blind to all but your self and your own."

Zuko could feel the atmosphere around him become dry. Droplets of water formed in the mid-air, suspended by the waterbender's agitation.

"It's not that simple."

"HA! Says he who single-mindedly chased around the avatar for years without a thought for even the possibility of the significance of a person beyond himself."

"I had changed."

"NO YOU HAVEN'T. I TRUSTED YOU THEN BUT I KNOW NOW THAT YOU ARE STILL THE CRUEL, SADISTIC, _MANIPULATIVE_ FIREBENDER YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN." She was yelling now, her voice hoarse with dehydration and quivering with anger. Bitter tears collected in her eyes, shimmering in the gleam of the moon like the beads of moisture materializing in the air.

"Stop." He took a step forward.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF _SACRIFICE_. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT SPOILED AND SELFISH. ALL YOU KNOW IS TO HAVE AND TO TAKE!" She pushed herself up unsteadily, using the wall as support, shouting at him all the while.

"STOP." He set his jaw and clenched his fists.

"I SHOULD NEVER HAVE TRUSTED YOU, I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!"

"KATARA, STOP!"

He reached out to grab her wrists as she bent the water into dozens of icy daggers aimed at him. Now they fell from the air and shattered into bits of ice around them. She was breathing hard, angry tears streaming down her face. He was baring his teeth, but silently imploring with his golden eyes.

"Please…stop." He swallowed, fingers still encircled around her wrists, poised in mid-strike. "You're only hurting yourself."

Katara clenched her hands into fists and tried to wrench herself away. Zuko easily subdued her efforts. They were silent.

She glowered at him. He begged.

...

He won.

She caved.

* * *

Katara watched the puddle of stagnant water on the floor. She could see the moon's reflection across its surface. The night sky was clear.

He knew what she was capable of with even so little. But he had left her there anyway, ordering her guards back to the door as he left.

She was once again seated against the cool cement wall. She rubbed her wrists where his burning fingers had been. He hadn't hurt her; evidently he had more control over his bending now.

But so did she. And she _did _want to hurt him. She would have stabbed him with a hundred razor ice barbs if he hadn't stopped her. It was his fault. Her face. Their defeat. Aang's death…

But then he looked at her again. This time his eyes looked different. They were devoid of the haughty look of power and privilege which sunlight bestowed upon them. No, under the glow of the waning moon his eyes were stripped of their characteristic warmth rather taking on a silvery pallor that revealed so much more. They conveyed not blunt resistance but rather self-reproach – no, it was more than just that, his eyes were tortured.

And the way he looked at her was different as well. At the dock he had been guarded and wary. Here, alone, he was vulnerable. He knew all of her accusations were at the very least justified if not entirely true. And his eyes begged her for forgiveness; they looked at her with guilt and remorse.

_But that is unacceptable._ Katara dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. When he had arrived, she was already exhausted to the core. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and her head pounded with dehydration. The adrenaline pumping through her veins managed only barely to fuel her outburst. As soon as he broke her concentration, she was overwhelmed once more by fatigue.

It had been so much easier to give in to his pleading golden eyes. To allow her leaden arms to fall limply to her sides. To let her fury evaporate into the night air. To let him lower her down to the ground.

The stoic veneer she had tried so hard to maintain was insubstantial anyway. He was the prince of the Fire Nation with all the energy of the summer heat at his disposal. She was a peasant of the almost non-existent Southern Water Tribe without any water.

Until now.

She looked at the small puddle by her feet.

What did he want her to do? Escape in her current condition was impossible, even if she had an entire ocean to bend with. And as he had said himself, her burns were already beginning to scar. Was he toying with her before he could annihilate her for good? Did he want to see if she could heal her own scars first before he would make her heal his?

Katara let her eyes close as another wave of fatigue cascaded over her body.

_It doesn't matter anymore._ She reminded herself. _None of it matters. My family is gone, the Fire Nation has won, and I am going to die._

But his eyes, desperate and pleading, flashed across her mind once more.

Was it forgiveness that he wanted from her?

_Hatred is difficult but apathy is easy._ She thought as she finally allowed the darkness of unconsciousness to take over.

_Zuko…I will never forgive you._

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**A/N: YAY FIRST REAL ZUTARA INTERACTION! So this took me longer than expected to get up. I had time and energy-consuming Grad activities all week but since I've basically stopped sleeping since Friday we now have another chapter! I'm finished with school pretty much by this week (except for exams which let's be honest, I'm not really studying for) so I'll be able to post new (and longer) chapters every couple days from there on out! Yay! (Note, in spite of what my punctuation may suggest, I'm currently operating on less than 2 hrs of sleep total over the past 30 hrs or so.) Please review, they make me happy and also help immensely with my writing and the direction of the story. ^_^ Update will come before the end of this week.**


	4. Confrontation

Chapter 3: Confrontations

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It was the height of summer; the sun bathed everything in a scalding orange glow, insects buzzed hectically through the lush greenery, even the very air shimmered with heat.

Zuko, in spite of the early summer sunrises, had slept in until late morning, exhausted both physically and emotionally by his late night encounter. Now, with the sun at it's zenith, he sat by the pond in the palace gardens, letting the sunshine soak through his clothes, seep under his skin and flood his body with energy. He tapped his foot anxiously as he tossed breadcrumbs from his hasty breakfast to the turtleducks. Sitting under the sun and feeding the turtleducks usually relaxed and rejuvenated him, but today the heat only fueled his nervous energy.

The confrontation with Katara the night before was…unnerving, to say the least. She wasn't wrong about him; he was selfish above all else. Zuko had never had to care about anyone other than himself – and even for that he had always had servants and tutors and…_What about family?_ He thought, looking down at the frolicking turtleducks. His mother had been his entire world when he was young and from her disappearance until the recent past, he had grown ever closer to Uncle Iroh.

Iroh was more than just an uncle; he was Zuko's teacher, confidante, counselor, father – even cook and tea-maker on occasion. Iroh was the single constant in Zuko's life, the one who had always been there for him after every mishap, every mistake. But the way he had looked at Zuko in the crystal catacombs…

Katara had been full of anger but Iroh who he had mistreated, betrayed, abandoned, insulted time and time again…Iroh was broken-hearted. Iroh was beyond disappointment; Iroh had finally given up on his nephew.

Zuko felt his brow draw inward and his lips narrow in frustration at the unbidden memories. He shut his eyes against the glare of the water and sighed.

"I'm not interrupting am I?" A high, mocking voice suddenly cut through Zuko's reveries, jolting him to attention. He scowled up at the figure hovering over him, outlined in golden sunlight.

"What now, Azula." Her timing was, as always, impeccable in finding Zuko at his worst.

Azula flicked her eyes across his haggard face and smiled radiantly, teeth gleaming under the sun. "I just wanted to make sure my brother was getting plenty of rest and beauty sleep for the celebrations tomorrow evening."

"Unlikely," Zuko scoffed. "Just cut the crap and get to your point."

"My, my, we are certainly in a hurry today aren't we?" Azula knelt gracefully to seat herself on the rock bench next to Zuko. "Well, if you insist on artless haste, I suppose it's the least a princess can do to _honour_ her crown prince." Her honeyed voice was tinged with vitriol. "Little birdy told me you had the waterbender girl moved to the towers."

"So what if I did?"

"Little birdy also told me you visited her last night."

"…"

Azula sighed. "Must we be so unforthcoming to one another? You've been away from court for a long time and I must say it has certainly taken its toll on your sense of decorum."

"Right, that's what you're all about – decorum." Zuko laughed.

Something around Azula's eyes tightened but when she opened her mouth, her voice was just as sweet as before. "Well, if you must know, your interactions with the water tribe peasant have not gone unnoticed by either me or the rest of the palace. Gossip spreads fast in court, and treachery by an only very recently restored prince is a headlining event."

"I was questioning her on the avatar's revival. And treason's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

"Were you really?" Azula raised an eyebrow. "Well in that case perhaps I should grab Mai and Ty Lee and go have a chat with her myself –"

"No!" Zuko blurted out.

Azula tilted her head to the side, stretching her lips out into a smile once more. "I'm only trying to help speed along your little investigation. After all, even you wouldn't so dimwitted as to think that such a dangerous rebel - and powerful bender at that - could be safely held in our dungeons."

"You haven't seen her; she's not a threat anymore," Zuko said quietly.

"Oh? Well in that case, by all means, move her into the royal bedchambers!"

He didn't deign to respond.

Azula pursed her lips. "Come now, Zuzu, she's a loose end that needs to be dealt with immediately. A waterbender _and _close friend of the late avatar? Why, we should have had her executed as soon as the ship docked. And the longer she lives the stronger any remaining resistance grows. She isn't just a girl or a waterbender; she is the only and ultimate remaining symbol of insurrection. With her, all final challengers of the Fire Nation will die out and we will finally be able to establish stability and peace. Isn't that what you want for us, what you for the world, Zuko?"

He looked at the turtleducks swimming and splashing in the pond. "She doesn't have to die for us to achieve peace. The Northern Water Tribe is still putting up a fight and they would make a martyr of her if we killed her now."

Azula sighed. "Don't fool yourself Zuzu, the Northern Water Tribe is down to its last leg and if they were looking for a martyr the avatar would've been it." She stood, red skirts flaring down to dust the ground.

"At the end of the day, you are still the crown prince and I your lowly subject. You see, I, unlike you, still follow common courtesy and so I'll let you have your way with her –" – Zuko blushed and started to protest but Azula pressed on – " …for now. But rest assured, if it spreads any further that you're cozying up to the waterbender, I'll have no choice but to take this to father. I haven't wanted to spoil either your restitution or his victory with this sticky situation up until now, but I will do what I have to when the time comes. I can only hope that you'll have the guts to do the same."

With a swish of her skirts, Azula exited the gardens, leaving Zuko alone, once more, in the scorching heat.

* * *

The world was a haze. The stone walls around her were blurry and the rays of sun filtering in from the window were smears of glaring light.

It had been a full day since Katara had arrived in the Fire Nation palace. It had been too long ago since she had drunk or eaten anything. In the bleary peripheries of her consciousness she recalled the dry, stale buns she had been given on the ship. Her mouth watered at the thought.

_Water..._

She couldn't even remember the last time she had drunken anything. She had never felt so weak before. Katara was once more lying on the ground, this time on her back, face up to the sunlight which prevented her from retreating to unconsciousness. Since dawn she had drifted in and out of an agitated sleep, too exhausted to move but too hungry to sleep.

She had watched the rays of sunshine creep slowly around her prison as the sun rose through the air. Her puddle had quickly evaporated under the sun but even if she lay next to an ocean she would not have had the energy to bring herself to it to drink.

Presently, she barely registered the voices beyond her cell door and the sounds of fire blasts on metal. She was still as death as a guard entered the cell. She closed her eyes, wondering if they would finally take her to death now.

"Get up and eat." The guard's voice was impatient but also tense, as if he was afraid of the decaying girl lying prostrate before him. Katara was still, too tired to stir, too tired to even process his words.

There was a sigh and a rustle of armor plates as the guard crouched beside her, tray in hand. "Look, I have orders to guard you while you eat so could you not be difficult?"

Silence. Then, another sigh accompanied with a mumbled "They don't pay me nearly enough for this."

Katara felt a gloved hand lift her head while another wound around her waist to shift her to sitting against a wall. She opened her eyes at his touch and looked blankly at him as he moved her. The guard was in his early to mid thirties, although he had clearly tried to grow out his facial hair to look older. He probably had a wife and a kid or two; in any case, he had enough of a family to make him sympathetic to a young and obviously incapacitated prisoner.

He brought a cup to her lips, and she drank eagerly, immediately forgetting about her evaluations of the intruder. Whatever they had given her wasn't water - it tasted more like a very stale beer - but to Katara it made no difference; the cool liquid coursing down her throat was like the elixir of life and the nectar of the gods combined. After a few gulps, the guard started to pull the cup away, probably afraid of her sudden movement, but the waterbender, much revived by the drink, brought her hands up to clasp the cup herself.

Suddenly, Katara felt a blow across her face, flinging the cup from her lips to the ground, where it clanged noisily and spilled the remaining liquid across the stone floor. She could feel her burn marks splitting open again as well as new blood flowing from her mouth where the rim of the cup had cut open her lip.

The guard looked horrified, his brief moment of care for a young girl replaced by fear of the dangerous bender.

"What's going on in there?" The two other guards burst into the room at the sudden noise.

"It's alright, just…Jin-ho, why don't you take it from here?" The first guard stood and moved to guard the door while one of the newcomers stayed in the cell to watch the prisoner.

She took the bowl from the tray and ate the cold and unseasoned porridge silently. Looking at his pockmarked and frowning face, Katara got the sense that her new guard wouldn't be as kind as his friend had been. Ignoring the stinging sensation across her face, she flicked her eyes over to the spilt liquid on the ground.

Almost immediately, the pool burst into flame and she jumped, spilling food on herself in the process. The guard smirked, "The other guy was a softy but don't you even think about pulling something with me."

Katara didn't respond, returning to her food. He'd caught her before she had even had a chance to formulate a complete thought on what she wanted to do. Frowning into her bowl, she wondered if she really would have attacked the guards.

…_Or was I about to finish myself once and for all?_

* * *

"Zuko, let me in."

Her low monotone voice was unmistakeable. Zuko crossed the room from where he was reviewing reports from the colonies and opened the door to reveal –

"Mai."

"Hey there, sleepyhead," she ruffled his hair as she glided past him into his room. "I missed you at breakfast this morning."

"Yeah, I uh…had a late night." Zuko shut the door behind him and took a seat next to her on the couch.

"So Azula told me, " She looked at him calmly from under her pitch-black bangs.

Zuko groaned inwardly. _Of course she did._

"What did she tell you?"

"Not much," she exhaled. "But I really hope you know what you're getting yourself into with all this." She paused. "What exactly do you hope to accomplish keeping her here?"

"I…I don't know. Azula was planning on having her executed for treason but…I don't know, I just couldn't let her do it."

Mai turned toward the tapestry hanging on the wall opposite them. It was a beautiful piece depicting the dragon and the phoenix, symbols of harmony and marriage in the Fire Nation. More specifically, they were often used to represent the Firelord and Firelady who ruled with the power of fire but also maintained stability in the land, just like the perfect union of the dragon and the phoenix.

Even before his banishment when Zuko was still a child, Mai had been the most likely candidate for crown princess. She had an impeccable lineage, had grown up in court, and had already been friends of the prince and princess. When Zuko had returned from his banishment as a young man, he realized how suited they were for each other. For all their differences, they balanced each other out. His fiery passion and enthusiasm brought out more of her emotions while her cool and imperturbable attitude calmed his rash temper.

But even still, Zuko had his reservations about Mai. No matter how well they got along when alone, he knew that, if tested, she would always be more loyal to Azula. Mai and Azula had been together since infancy and the years they had spent together during Zuko's banishment had brought them all the closer. Mai wasn't bothered by Azula's cruelty – in fact, it was precisely Azula's active wickedness and Mai's unfriendly indifference that had first brought them together as childhood friends.

However, with Zuko's return, everyone at court put heavy pressure on both of them to quickly become a couple and get officially betrothed. With Zuko's position so precarious already such an act would go far to ensure the line of succession and further re-legitimize his status as crown prince.

Mai was quiet for a while, seemingly wrapped up in her own reveries. And then:

"…Do you like her?"

"I…she's a prisoner."

"That's irrelevant."

"…"

Mai turned back towards him. "What could possibly do with her in the future? You can't release her; she'll start another war to overthrow the Firelord. You can't keep her here forever either – you know better than anyone what a powerful bender she is."

Zuko didn't respond. Mai's words echoed Azula's earlier in the day. And they rang just as true now as they did coming from the princess's lips.

"You can't keep her in limbo forever, Zuko. You are not a child anymore and she is not and never has been your toy." Something broke in Mai's voice, allowing the genuine unhappiness she felt beneath her indifferent exterior to leak out.

Zuko looked up to meet her inky black eyes.

"You're not talking about her anymore, are you?" He said quietly.

She stiffened and he watched as she slammed up her shields again, immediately returning to her characteristic monotone.

"You are no longer a banished prince; you have power and will only have more power in the future." She said simply. "If you expect the nation to respect and follow you in the future you'll have to start making real, difficult decisions in the present." She stood and made for the door, pausing at the threshold.

"Decisions that don't just cater to your own selfish whims and desires."

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**A/N: *doorslam* sassy Mai puts Zuzu in his place. Yaaaas. No Zutara goodies in this chapter I'm afraid but as you can see there's a lot of angsty exposition and other non-Zuko, non-Katara characters to deal with first. Also I apologize for the belated update, I really ought to stop making promises about when the next chapter will be up, I write whenever I can but I procrastinate literally everything. Ehe.**

**BUTALASHOWEVER I _have_ outlined the next couple of chapters and 1) Zutara will be reunited first thing next chapter, 2) kind of really big plot twist happening next chapter also, and 3) sexy sexy fun times happening in chapter 5 so next next update! YAAAAY FOR SEXY SEXY FUN TIMES!**

**Thanks for following my story it makes me really really happy and lots of love to my reviewers; who needs honour when I have you guys.**


	5. Denial

Chapter 4: Denial

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It felt good to be moving her body through the familiar waterbending forms again, even if she couldn't bend any actual water.

After a full night's rest and two more meals, Katara felt better. Which, considering she had been close to dying of dehydration the day before, wasn't actually saying much. In truth, she was still bloodied and battered and weak. She hadn't even bothered trying to sneak water from her food again; her face still sported the bruises and blood from her first non-attempt.

Now, she merely focused on releasing the tension in her sore muscles as she worked through a series of traditional waterbending moves. She was still wearing her red Fire Nation clothes from before the Day of Black Sun as well as an assortment of rainbow-coloured cuts and bruises. Days worth of grime and sweat clung to her clothes and skin. Her hair, where it wasn't charred to jagged chunks, was matted and greasy.

She eased her breathing and tried to let go of her discomfort and immerse herself in the familiar movements. As she did so, she felt both her mind and body automatically tune in to the most immediate sources of water around her, from the humidity in the air to the bodies of the guards outside her cell.

Briefly her mind flashed to the night Zuko had come to her and the way she had unconsciously bent the moisture from the air. Before the disconcerting memory could break her slow meditations, she shook herself of the recollection and returned to focus on her bending.

Although she was no longer as dehydrated as she had been just twenty-four hours ago, Katara could still barely sense the tiny amount of moisture amongst the arid summer heat. Above all, the air just felt dry and empty. With her eyes closed and her feet in a wide stance, she moved her arms slowly through the air to tug at what little water she could feel around her. Almost immediately she felt an immense drain in her energy at the effort of distilling water from the air. But, determined to recreate her feat two nights prior, Katara pressed insistently on.

She started to feel tiny water droplets starting to form in the air and draw ever closer to her hands as they wove gracefully through the air.

And then, all of a sudden, she was jerked out of her slow and concentrated efforts by the screech of the heavy metal door swinging open. More than a little irritated Katara watched helplessly as the culmination of her morning's efforts evaporated uselessly back into the atmosphere. But before she could turn around to face the interruption she succumbed to her own bending-induced fatigue. A wave of dizziness wash over her as her knees promptly gave out under her body causing her to fall feebly backwards – and into a pair of burning arms.

"Katara!"

Of course it would be _him_ who caught her in such a weak and compromised position.

Before she could allow him to ask if she was okay or, even worse, allow herself to enjoy the soft warmth of his embrace, Katara shoved Zuko away, stumbling back to her feet. He blinked and looked at her, surprised, as she glared back with an impressive amount of vexation for someone who could barely stand.

She didn't speak, only continued to glower silently.

"Have they been bringing you meals?" Zuko started hesitantly, straightening up and pushing the door shut behind him. "I told them to give you food and drink after I saw you that night."

He frowned when his eyes dropped to the green and blue splotches that had joined the red burns around her mouth and jaw. "What did they do to you? They're under strict orders not to bother you except to keep you from bending your water at mealtimes and to take you to the outhouse."

He sounded angry, furious even. Katara almost smiled before she caught herself and returned her mouth to a safer and more appropriate scowl.

"No, it was nothing." She replied curtly.

Zuko looked unconvinced, but moved on. "Were you bending just now?"

"I…yes, but I wouldn't worry about me breaking out anytime soon." Katara leaned against the wall, trying to let the cool stone calm her still racing heart and now racing thoughts.

"So," she continued. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I'm sure a prince has far better things to do than to visit a common prisoner like myself."

"You're anything but common," Zuko said raising an eyebrow. "In fact you've been causing me quite the headache recently."

_Good. _She smirked. Out loud she said, "Busy planning my execution are you? And when exactly will that be?"

He shook his head. "I wish it were so easy to deal with you."

"Is it really so complicated? You could just off me now and be done with it."

He sighed. "Would you have me execute all your little friends too?"

Katara stiffened, bringing her arms up around herself, as if trying to physically hold herself together. "Where are they?" Her sarcastic tone evaporated as fast as her water droplets, replaced by a nervous insistence.

"They're being held in the dungeons indefinitely. Everyone's too busy celebrating right now to bother dealing with them." Katara released the breath she had been holding. _So they're not dead…yet._

He fixed his piercing golden eyes on her once more and she unconsciously backed further up against the wall. "You, on the other hand, have become of a higher priority."

She could feel the blood drain from her face. _They're going to kill me after all._ She took in a slow shuddering breath. "Look," she began earnestly. "I…I don't care what happens to me. You can kill me today if you want. As long as you let the others live."

He was quiet. Katara took a step forward and almost reached a hand out before she thought better of it and clutched her own body tighter. "Please, promise me you'll let them go. They won't dare to attack if you still have me hostage…Zuko, _please_."

He flinched at the sound of his name; it was the first time she had used it at court. He sighed again, "I can't make you any promises. It takes a lot just to keep you alive."

Something shifted in his eyes and he suddenly moved forward, closing the wary distance they had been maintaining. His expression morphed from tired to concerned as he examined her face closely. Katara blinked, startled and confused but stayed still as he brought a hand up to her forehead, brushing her disheveled hair back to press his palm against her brow.

His hand was warm but they were so close now that she could feel the heat of his entire body enveloping her in warmth. She could feel his energy tugging at her core and she just barely leaned closer into his touch and away from the cold hard stone at her back.

After a moment, he moved his hand away and seemed to say something, but Katara barely registered his words. She was utterly preoccupied by the sensation of his cool breath against her. He smelled like summer and jasmine tea.

She wanted so badly to give in to her exhaustion and melt into his warm embrace. She just wanted him to hold her while she oozed away into comfortable oblivion, leaving behind her pain and heartache.

"Katara, did you hear me?" He gently tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. "I said that your wounds are infected and you most likely have a…"

He trailed off as, all at once, her eyes focused in on his.

He was so close that she could see each individual lash, black as night, and every ridge in his angry red scar. She could see the flecks of brown in his golden irises and the red veins along the whites of his tired eyes. She watched them shift through a series of emotions from concerned to irritated to startled to tortured to yearning – and then all of them at once.

His body, his scent, his warmth was all around her. Only his fingertips grazed her chin but she could feel his presence engulfing her. She breathed in sharply as he slowly slid his fingers across her jaw towards the back of her neck. Upon her inhale he moved his body in even closer to hers until only a sliver of space separated them. Their chests rose alternately with each breath, never touching.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

For a moment they were still. She could feel her pulse burning through her veins. Then, she tilted her head up slowly, dropping her gaze to trace the contours of his lips, slanting her mouth so that it could rest upon his…

This time he was the one to move away, so abruptly that he pushed her a little too roughly against the wall. She cried out, not so much in pain as in surprise or protest.

They were both breathing hard and she watched him stagger back and swallow with difficulty as he tried to avoid making eye contact again. Katara could feel equal parts anger and relief welling up inside at his breaking away.

Above all she was intensely annoyed that she hadn't had the willpower to resist him herself.

He turned back to the door and wrenched it open. He paused in the doorframe with his back still to her. "If you can't heal yourself, I'll send a healer to look at your injuries and treat your fever," he uttered quickly before shutting the door behind him.

Katara stayed rooted on the spot for a moment as the sound of ringing metal slowly faded into oblivion. Then, she slowly slid down to the floor, dazed expression on her face. She pressed a hand to her neck where his scorching touch still lingered on her skin.

_Damn you, Zuko…_

* * *

Zuko shook his long hair into his eyes to avoid unwanted attention as he rushed out of the tower gates. He had gone to Katara in the hope that seeing her would help him come to some sort of resolution; one that wouldn't leave him wanting to burn off his own flesh, for a change. He had not counted on…whatever just happened – or, rather, almost happened.

The only other time they had gotten anywhere near that close was when she had offered to heal his scar. Funny how their circumstances were now completely reversed – Zuko the firebender who destroyed more than he ever created offering to help Katara the waterbender who healed even her enemies.

They barely knew each other then – barely knew each other now – but she had still been willing to use her spirit water on him. And just now, even as she wore and suffered proof of the abuse she had received from the guards, she still appealed only for the safety and salvation of her friends and family.

Put simply, Katara possessed precisely that which Zuko lacked most. Unfathomable compassion. Unrelenting selflessness.

He passed a hand across his face, groaning.

Back in Ba Sing Se she was the one to bring her hand up to caress his face.

Just moments before he had been the one to touch her first.

_But she was the one who leaned in…_

He could feel blood pounding in his head, heating his cheeks and threatening to make his brain burst.

He quickened his pace.

As he turned into a side entrance, he almost collided head first into a blustering young page.

"Your highness!" The boy looked about eleven or twelve. He quickly crouched into a clumsy bow, uttering apologies all the while.

"It's fine," Zuko brushed passed him and tried to ignore how similar he looked to the late-avatar.

"Your highness, please, I've actually been trying to find you!" the boy scrambled after him. "I have an urgent message for you from the Firelord!"

Zuko stopped, turning back to the page.

"His majesty has summoned your highness to see him in the throne room," the page said, wheezing and sweating nervously.

"I-Immediately."

* * *

Katara stayed royally pissed off for the rest of the day.

Throughout all the other muddled emotions she felt – humiliation, disappointment, despair – anger remained a constant, bubbling underneath and surfacing at times as hatred and at others as self-loathing. And no matter how much she wished to block out that irrational, impulsive, primal side of her, Katara couldn't help but burn with a frustration that resulted from both her desire for and anger towards the firebender.

She still couldn't understand his actions – why was he helping her? At the dock he had insisted she be moved out of the dungeons, and while the tower was still technically a prison hold, she was at the very least isolated here.

She shuddered at the thought of the kind of criminals who likely lurked in the dungeons underneath the palace. While her guards were at best overly cautious, they at least knew what she was and so kept their distance.

Katara looked over at one of her guards now – the same one who set fire to her drink before now watched her at every meal, which they brought twice a day. He never really spoke, just followed her every move with his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest.

She turned back to her dinner. Zuko's concern for her safety with the guards had been misplaced. She would surely have been subject to much worse in the dungeons…

They had brought her a loaf of bread and cold cabbage soup. As she dipped a chunk of bread into her soup she recalled what he had said about her wounds. Even if she had wanted to she wouldn't have any clean water with which to heal herself. Obviously, asking her guards for water would be an absolute waste of breath.

Breath...

...She could still taste his.

Her cheeks burst into flame and she set upon tearing her bread into pieces and shoving them in her mouth quickly, drowning them with gulps of soup.

As she finished her meal, the guard collected the tray and exited her cell without a word.

Katara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and lay down on the floor.

_I am not going to fall for this again._ She thought, closing her eyes as she drifted slowly into sleep.

_Sorry Zuko, but if you want to keep me as your pet you'll just have to bear with my hideous face._

* * *

When Katara opened her eyes again, the world around her was a haze of white.

As she struggled to bring the universe back to focus, she slowly realized that she was no longer in the tower. Rather, she was flying through the air on Appa's back, and very much alone.

The sky was a strange shade of purple and grey, as though someone had blocked out the sun…

Before she could make sense of her strange surroundings, they changed.

Now, she stood on a pier. But no ships were moored in the water. In fact the water was completely still, without a single ripple marring its immaculate surface.

And suddenly she realized:

_This is the last place I saw Aang before he went after the Firelord…_

"Katara."

She whirled around.

A young airbender with pale blue arrow tattoos stood before her, but it didn't look like Aang. This boy looked much too sad, too empty to be the effervescent, optimistic young avatar.

"Aang…" she breathed.

"I'm sorry, Katara," the boy said. "I failed you – I failed everyone...again."

Katara held her breath. He looked as though his entire being would disintegrate at even the smallest breeze.

"You didn't fail us," she began. "The war is not over, and those of us who remain will not stop fighting…"

She trailed off, knowing the words that would come next before he spoke them:

"But you have," His eyes were so downcast. They evoked none of living Aang's vibrancy and energy.

"It's over," he went on. "The Fire Nation has won. The avatar is dead. Balance will never be restored."

"You would never say that."

_You're nothing but the shell of a boy who is no more._

He didn't answer.

"You would say that life must and will go on," she continued. "You would tell me that nothing is ever absolute and that even the Fire Nation will one day fall and balance between the nations will return once more. You would say that even in the darkest of times, love and beauty could still be found."

"Have you found it?"

"No."

"..."

"I loved you, you know."

"I knew."

"But you didn't love me."

"We were too young to love."

"Are you too young now?"

"I am too old now."

"How?"

"I've lived long enough to not believe in love or beauty anymore."

"Are you sure you've been living?"

"No."

"…"

"Were we just stupid children playing at saving the world?"

"We were just children."

"I don't think we ever accepted reality or saw it for what it was."

"How could we? To do so would be to fall into abject despair."

"Did you know then? That I would die?"

"I'd known for a while."

"Is that why you couldn't love me?"

"If anything I loved you more."

"But not the way I loved you."

"Even you didn't love me the way you thought you did."

The husk of Aang blinked. "I couldn't master the Avatar state because I wouldn't let you go."

"…"

"I didn't know how I could live – truly live – without the feelings that I had for you."

"…"

"I didn't want to stop living."

"Your feelings for me were not the whole of your life or the summation of your existence."

Aang smiled slightly.

"You _are_ older."

In that moment, he looked more like the living Aang than ever. So much so that Katara wanted to reach out and comfort him the way she always used to. She wanted to feed him the affection he craved from her. She wanted him to still be the boundlessly optimistic boy, the beacon of light and hope that everyone came to know him for.

But she was older now.

Enough to know that she didn't love him. Enough to know that he didn't – hadn't – truly loved her.

"I'm sorry, Aang," she could feel tears welling in her eyes. "I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to always stay as optimistic as you were. I could have loved you for so much more but the only way I loved you was as a child and as the avatar."

Aang was silent, his face expressionless.

"You were so much more than just that. And you had the capacity for so much more than just pure joy or naïve positivity. You had faced so much more loss and pain than I will ever know and you were so much wiser for it that even you yourself knew. And yet…all I wanted was to shield you from it all, to block out your pain so you could just be a happy child, to feed your optimism so you could be the light for the rest of the world."

Tears were flowing freely from her eyes now.

"I didn't let you grow up."

The boy before her fractured into pieces as her vision blurred over with tears.

"How could I?"

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**A/N: First let's just have a moment to let all that sink in.**

**...**

**Okay.**

**So remember how I was saying I should never make promises about my stories? Yeah I really just need to stop. So the really big plot twist I promised didn't happen in this chapter in case you were looking for it and couldn't find it. The scenes kind of shifted around from my outlines and also Zutara got kind of unexpectedly naughty (that was not part of my plans but my hand slipped and it just kind of happened. Lucky for you.) Also Katara's POV got kind of…meta. It's different from everything else but I couldn't really do this scene any other way that felt right. It's not actually that long but there's a lot there to unpack.**

**Anyways, a lot happens next chapter and sexy sexy fun times might be at the end of it all but I kind of want to open a chapter with that so it could (and probably will) get pushed back to the next next chapter. Don't be mad, I threw you a bone with the first scene this chapter so just use it to sustain yourself until next next chapter kay?**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated. Also it's my birthday today so gift me with thy reviews!**


	6. Celebration

Ch5: Celebration

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Zuko wanted to vomit. All over the excess of rich food, fine wine, and gold furnishings in front of him.

As the setting sun glowed orange in the distance, the official celebration of Fire Lord Ozai's victory was in full swing. Tables were overflowing with succulent meats and elaborate desserts. Musicians wafted through the crowd, filling the massive imperial gardens with boisterous song. Everywhere, nobles were shoving their faces, drowning themselves in drinks, and tripping over one another laughing and dancing.

Directly in the middle of it all was the Fire Lord's table, positioned in the heart of the garden on an elevated platform overlooking the festivities. This was where Zuko had been sitting, wearing a hole into the ground with the anxious tapping of his feet, for the past few hours.

He was still reeling from his exchange with Ozai earlier in the afternoon.

The first thing his father said to him when he entered the throne room was:

"And so my only son dishonours me again."

If Zuko's soul had a face, it would've erupted with a red hand shaped imprint.

He stayed crouched on his knees with his head bowed as his actual face slowly turned crimson. He had never before experienced a fear as all-consuming as this, not even when he was thirteen and his father had challenged him to an Agni Kai in this very room. It paralyzed him absolutely, from his limbs to his tongue to his mind. He stayed frozen, as the fire of the throne room flickered red and orange around him.

The Fire Lord sat, as always, on his throne surrounded by a wall of fire. He took his time before speaking again, coolly observing Zuko burn with mortification and terror before him.

"I really did want to give you a second chance," he said eventually. His voice was colourless, betraying none of his emotion or intent.

"When your sister came in here and told me how brave, strong, and ruthless her brother had been in finally vanquishing the Avatar…I believed it.

"Not because I thought you capable of such things, but because I so greatly wanted to rid this family, this nation, of the profound disgrace which you had brought upon it."

The flames flared up.

"And now…"

His voice vibrated low and menacing through the room.

"Get up and look me in the eyes," he suddenly snapped. Zuko got up to his feet, and looked up into the dark figure silhouetted against the flames.

Zuko's heart pounded frenetically his chest. An infinite number of heartbeats seemed to pass before the Fire Lord spoke again.

"Your sister," he began. "Doesn't look much like me at all. In fact, she's the spitting image of your mother when she was that age."

The hairs on the back of Zuko's neck stood up at the mention of his mother.

"You, on the other hand," the Fire Lord continued. "Apart from that scar, you resemble me very much.

"Azula is like me in many other ways, however. She never had the patience for things like impotence and stupidity. Even as a child she discarded the friends whom she deemed insufficient to make her acquaintance. But above all, Azula refuses to accept weakness and understands how important it is to be ruthless in the pursuit of power."

Ozai stood and parted the wall of flames to walk down the steps towards Zuko. The Firelord was taller than his son, and Zuko could feel his father towering over him as he paced slowly around him. He stopped behind his left shoulder, just out of Zuko's line of sight.

"Zuko, tell me: why did I, Fire Lord Azulon's second son, succeed him on the throne rather than your uncle Iroh?

"It was Grandfather Azulon's dying wish that his second son take his place as Firelord."

"Wrong. Your uncle was weak. He set siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred days but when the time came to lay waste to the city and conquer it in the name of the Fire Nation, he failed and lost everything. He was consumed by his son's death and he allowed his personal affairs to overshadow the greater cause he was fighting for. Iroh didn't understand what it meant to make personal sacrifices for the sake of greater things, for victory, for power. But I did…That is how I became the Firelord while he withered away into a fat old man, and a traitor at that."

Zuko said nothing as the Firelord continued to pace. He sounded almost as though he were ruminating to himself rather than speaking to an audience.

"Yes, I made many sacrifices to get to where I am today," he said as he came to a stop directly facing Zuko. Ozai looked him in the eye.

"And I will continue to make more such sacrifices from here on out."

Zuko felt a bolt of fear crackle down his spine. Sweat coursed down his neck. His fingernails found purchase in the palms of his hands, digging in hard enough to break the skin. But he held his father's gaze. Ozai was not wrong; the resemblance between father and son was striking. The years he had spent in exile had seen Zuko grow and mature. He had the same strong jaw and angular features as his father now.

But as Zuko looked into his father's gold eyes, he was struck by how different they were from his own. Ozai, like Azula, always looked like he was playing a particularly engaging game of pai sho. Moreover, he always looked at people like they were the pieces.

"Your sister has already proven herself at such a tender age how worthy she is of power. You, on the other hand, have spent your years proving to be my greatest failure.

"Azula is perhaps one of the most promising child this family has ever seen. She is perfect for the throne."

Ozai frowned.

"In spite of all of this, however, Azula…will _not_ ascend the throne."

Zuko flinched in surprise.

"This family has seen too much inner turmoil. What our new world needs now is stability. And it will start with you."

Zuko stared at his father, stunned.

"Even though you are a disgrace, you are still my son and first-born," he continued. "For all your faults and weaknesses…your succession will not be questioned. Azula, on the other hand, is not only second, but also female. In spite of her ambition and strength, her reign would still only provoke more resistance to our power, especially from our own people and within this very nation. Now more than ever, we must adhere to the old traditions. Even as we create new ones, this family must continue to be the ultimate symbol of longstanding reign and harmony in the realm.

"Tonight I will make the announcement and, in three weeks hence, on the day of Sozin's Comet, I shall be crowned Phoenix King, Supreme Ruler of the World. And you, my son, shall become the Fire Lord."

He fixed his cold, calculating stare on Zuko.

"This is the sacrifice I am willing to make for the success and stability of our rule. This is the sacrifice I will make for the sake of peace and longevity.

"Don't make me regret it."

Zuko had spent the rest of the day in shock. He had expected Ozai to, at the very least, exile him permanently, maybe drop him in the middle of a desert or a swamp or something. But, this? Not only would he stay crown prince but also he would become Fire Lord in less than a month…

Presently, he sat on his father's left, in the seat of honour for the crown prince, while some high ranking military general sat on his father's right. Fortunately, the Fire Lord had been too preoccupied with discussing Admiral Zhao's efforts in the North all night to pay Zuko much attention.

Azula, on the other hand, had only been too eager to engage him in torturous conversation. If not for Mai, Azula would easily have been the most aggravating presence at the table that night. Strictly speaking, Mai had no particularly elevated status that warranted her seat at the Fire Lord's table. The entire basis of her presence rested upon the ever-mounting expectation of a royal proposal, which made an already unpleasant evening positively unbearable.

Looking over at the somber girl now, Zuko immediately felt guilty for thinking such things. In spite of the awkwardness of their present situation, she had been perfectly civil, if slightly aloof, all evening.

Zuko sighed. All external influences aside, he just really liked Mai – he almost always had. Mai abhorred the stifling formalities and traditions of court just as much as he did and at whatever function they were at, Zuko had only to look at her expression of extreme disdain and boredom to cheer up. Moreover, she absolutely refused to buy into the petty squabbles and gossip among the rest of the nobility. Mai was, above all, fiercely loyal and a highly admirable force to be reckoned with.

But the circumstances of their proximity had made any sort of romantic relationship between them seem forced and unnatural. This was something that had always hung over their heads but, as they got older and marriage loomed ever closer, maintaining genuine feelings for one another just became more and more difficult. Especially when they were constantly being shoved together at public events such as these.

"Gosh, Zuzu if you're going to stare at Mai all night you might as well sit together and chat." Azula stood abruptly from her seat next to Zuko and shooed Mai over to sit in it.

Mai rolled her eyes grudgingly but picked up her cup of wine and switched seats anyway. Zuko blushed and coughed into his shoulder to hide his embarrassment.

Meanwhile Azula leaned back in her chair, and pulled her red lips up into a smile. "So Mai, how's your father been doing in New Ozai?"

"Very busy. Governor is a highly prestigious position and he's very committed to doing the job well," Mai replied dispassionately.

"Well I genuinely hope he'll be available to walk you down the aisle," Azula sipped coyly at her drink. Zuko just about choked on his.

Mai's face remained impassive but he noticed her gripping the armrest of her chair tighter.

"When should I be expecting an invitation?" Azula continued. "I'm sure Ty Lee's just dying to start coordinating our bridesmaids dresses."

Mai had her lips pressed so tightly together they were blanched white.

Azula looked passed her at Zuko. "But I'm sure Zuko won't be too picky about any of it, as long as you get hitched before his time in court…expires."

"Azula, enough!"

Just as Zuko spoke, Mai suddenly grabbed his arm, her grip the only thing keeping him from jumping to his feet. Azula seemed quite unperturbed. She only smirked at him and went back to her drink.

Zuko then realized that Mai hadn't let go of him and that her nails were digging painfully into his skin. But when he glanced over at her face, he barely caught a glimpse of her distressed expression before she quickly composed herself and looked past him towards his father. Turning around, Zuko realized that the Fire Lord had just stood up and was evidently about to make an announcement.

Ozai seemed not to register his son's outburst, and only looked out imperiously at the crowd as a hush descended upon the party.

The sun was no longer in view, but its feverish light cast a bright red, orange, and pink glow on the skies above.

The Fire Lord was bathed in orange light as he crossed to the podium in front of the table. All were silent as he came to a halt behind the golden podium, carved in the image of a phoenix with outstretched wings, surrounded by tongues of flame.

"Welcome," his thunderous voice echoed through the gardens. "To a new era.

"For over a hundred years the four nations have been at war. Our brothers and sisters, forefathers and mothers have fought and bled for this day. Finally, we are at peace. Finally, the Fire Nation has won!"

The audience broke into a roaring applause. At the Fire Lord's table, Zuko clapped underneath the table while Mai continued to grasp his arm.

"The honourable Admiral Zhao has, as of today, destroyed the Northern resistance absolutely, bringing both the Northern and Southern Water Tribes under our control."

Another thunder of applause.

"My own daughter, your beloved Princess Azula, has done what no other in a hundred years has accomplished. Almost single-handedly, she invaded and captured the Earth Kingdom capital of Ba Sing Se and tore down its legendary great walls. She drove out the Earth King and assumed absolute control with her force of Dai Li agents. At last, the mighty Earth Kingdom has fallen!"

Azula beamed graciously as she received her applause. As it died down once more, she flashed Zuko a triumphant look; Ozai had omitted Zuko's previously supposed assassination of the avatar.

"But all this began," the Fire Lord continued, "With the mighty Fire Lord Sozin, who began the Fire Nation's rise to supremacy in the world. Sozin dared to challenge the Avatar, and survived him to drive the next Avatar, an air bender, into hiding for the next hundred years. Sozin harnessed the power of the Great Comet to obliterate the Air Nomads, the first of the nations to be vanquished by the Fire Nation.

"My father, Fire Lord Azulon, continued his father's legacy, expanding our navy to unprecedented heights and establishing prosperous colonies around the world to fuel our cities and war fronts. For his efforts, the Fire Nation is now the wealthiest and most developed nation to ever exist and the undisputed greatest military power.

"And now, I have finally brought to fruition the dreams of my forefathers. I succeeded in defeating and killing not only the Avatar, but also the last airbender. I united the nations at last under the rule of the Fire Nation. I brought an end to the Hundred Years War and will now usher in a new era of global peace and prosperity!"

After an earth-shaking applause, the Fire Lord raised a hand to silence the crowd.

"From the ashes of the past hundred years of war, a new glorious era of fire shall grow and flourish. As great protector and father of this new united realm, I will re-crown myself as the Phoenix King, Supreme Ruler of the World!

More applause, this time accompanied by a hum of excited murmurs. Zuko glanced over at Azula who was clapping with a fanatic sort of fervor, her eyes glowing in anticipation. He looked away and braced himself for the announcement that would surely follow.

"In three weeks hence, on the day of the Sozin's Comet, I shall become the Phoenix King." Ozai continued.

Zuko shut his eyes and slipped his arm from Mai's relaxed grip to grasp her hand. If she was puzzled by his sudden movement, she didn't show it. Rather, she silently squeezed back.

"As such, your new Fire Lord will be…

"…the crown prince, Zuko."

Zuko opened his eyes to a stuttered applause that quickly swelled with the sound of hushed whispers. He stood but continued to clutch Mai's hand underneath the table, whose vice grip on him had impossibly tightened. He looked straight ahead as he sat back down.

Even still, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Azula's face, still stretched in a grotesque smile as her eyes blazed blood red with the dying sun.

* * *

By the time Zuko returned to his room, he was seeing stars. The first fireworks had gone off almost as soon as the Fire Lord finished his speech, when darkness was just bleeding into the sky, and had continued all night long. The toasts had also begun around that time. In spite of the hesitant applause, just as many guests had approached their table to toast the soon-to-be Fire Lord as those who came to toast the new Phoenix King. With every cup of spiced wine or sake, Zuko could feel his senses become more and more sluggish.

At some point in the evening, Mai had slipped silently away. Preoccupied with the never-ending procession of nobles and officials eager to get in good with the new Fire Lord, Zuko hadn't noticed until she was long gone. Now, as he tried to shake the dizziness from his head, Zuko reflected that it was precisely moments like tonight when he remembered why he liked the girl so much.

No matter how indifferent she may appear, Mai was highly cunning and acutely perceptive. Unlike Ty Lee who followed Azula blindly, Mai could keep up with the princess and very consciously chose to accept her leadership. She knew how to pick her battles and she always won those she chose to engage in.

Tonight, she had put aside the awkwardness of their situation and come to his aid, twice. First, she had ignored Azula's teasing and stopped him in time before he made a spectacle of himself in front of the entire court. Then, she had supported him wordlessly as Ozai made the announcement of his imminent coronation to the world, and, more importantly, to Azula. Zuko knew he was lucky, for Mai was a true friend, and, given their situation, he could have ended up with much, much worse.

Presently, Zuko opened the door to his chambers and stepped in. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he knew something was off. First of all, all of the sconces on his walls were already lit.

Second of all, the flames they carried were bright blue.

As he looked around, he spotted her, sitting on the floor in a collapsed sort of way with her back against the foot of his bed and her head lolling to one side, undone hair all across her face. As he approached, he could detect the reek of alcohol emanating from her body and see the half-empty drink in her hand.

Azula was already dangerous and crazy sober. Zuko didn't particularly want to find out what she was like drunk.

"Azula, what are you doing here?" he said, looking down at her from a wary distance.

She rolled her head around to rest back against the bed and look back up at him. "Oh why I'm here to congratulate my dear brother on his promotion of course!"

Her usually lilting speech was blurred and shriller than ever. "I wanted to make sure that _you_ knew that there are No. Hard. Feelings." She broke out into an uncontrolled, maniacal laughter.

"Azula, you're drunk," Zuko groaned, passing a hand over his face. "Just…go to bed and we can talk about this in the morning, okay?"

"No no no no no," she took a dreg from her cup. "Let's do this _now_. God knows we're long overdue. You know, everyone called you the crown prince when father restored your honour, but really, we all knew that I would be the next Fire Lord."

She hiccupped loudly.

"I mean, while you spent the last three years traipsing around the world after the avatar, _I_ was planning for _world domination_. _I_ was the one who trained everyday to become the best firebender this nation has ever seen. _I_ was the one who brought down Ba Sing Se and the Earth Kingdom, a feat none of our ancestors could accomplish, including our bumbling idiot of an uncle."

The blue flames cast an eerie light on her face, which was twisted into a snarl, and they flickered higher as she continued to speak.

"And let's not forget the cherry on top," she hissed. "_I_ was the one who killed the Avatar the first time in the crystal catacombs."

"Azula, I didn't ask for this, and you know it! I thought I would be lucky if he didn't have me hanged." Zuko retaliated.

"Oh but of course you didn't; you're a _coward_ and a _weakling_. But we all knew that already. Mother doted on you when we were young. She loved you so much it killed her," she smiled cruelly as Zuko struggled not to attack.

"But, father…I was always father's favourite, even before you were banished. He saw so much of himself in me: the second child, always second in line, having to work so hard to get any sort of notice rather than getting everything handed to him…You know the truth about father's ascension to the throne don't you? After cousin Lu Ten's death and Uncle Iroh's failure at Ba Sing Se, he went to grandfather Azulon to ask to be made Fire Lord in Iroh's place. Grandfather Azulon was so outraged he ordered father to kill you so that he would know the pain of losing a first born."

She paused, staring intently into Zuko's eyes.

"He would've done it you know. He would've killed you if it meant securing the throne."

She pushed herself up unsteadily to reach eye level with Zuko.

"Because _that's what it takes to gain power_. Ruthlessness. Ambition. Sacrifice," she spat out each word. "Things you would know nothing about. You have had everything: mother's love, Iroh's guidance, even a girlfriend in Mai."

She laughed wryly to herself. "And now, you have father's favour, too.

"But don't you for a moment kid yourself that he truly cares about you. You are a pawn, Zuzu. And father only wants to make a puppet Fire Lord of you. We all know he would kill you in an instant if you posed any sort of threat. That's why he killed mother, you know, to make sure she wouldn't poison him in order to protect y-"

"AZULA THAT'S ENOUGH!" As Zuko swiped the air angrily with one arm, the sconces along the wall suddenly blazed orange, high enough to singe the ceiling and fill the room with acrid black smoke.

Azula fell back to sitting on the bed behind her but didn't move to retaliate. She just sat looking at him curiously for a moment before laughing maniacally again. Even as Zuko continue to seethe with anger, she only continued to laugh and laugh, so hard that no sound came out and she doubled over, wheezing.

After a while she got up and took another swig from her cup before tottering out, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Zuko remained motionless as he listened to the sound of her stumbling and cackling fade into the distance.

He sunk into a crouch and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to get rid of the stars and dizziness that still clouded his mind. Azula and alcohol was a deadly combination. She knew how to worm her way into people's deepest fears and insecurities and once she grabbed hold of them, she would twist until she wrung out every fledge of self dignity you had left.

_But, knowing Azula, she's not even close to finished with me_…

Just as the thought materialized, Zuko suddenly jumped up again and bolted for the door.

_I have to get Katara out of the towers. _

Now_._

_._

_._

_._

**A/N: *So a note on gender equality in the Fire Nation. The canon is quite clear that the women are considerably less disenfranchised in the Fire Nation than in other nations (ie. Northern Water Tribe where gender roles of men fight/women heal are very firmly entrenched). However, considering the lack of other prominent female political/military leaders in the Fire Nation in the ATLA storyline, I'm going to assume that society still favoured men over women in positions of power.**

**So I just churned out a solid 4000 words for y'all. This has been the longest chapter so far (and they're only going to get longer from here on out) and obviously its all in Zuko's POV. Once again, no Zutara but there was a bit of Maiko for the Maiko shippers out there. I really didn't want to dismiss Mai so quickly because she's important to Zuko and also really badass and I kind of adore her. But, anyways, SEXY SEXY FUN TIMES FOR ZUZU AND KATARA IS FINALLY UPON US! HUZZAH! This was a super plot and self-reflection heavy chapter but the next chapter is literally all lemon and fluff and Zutara adorbs!**

**Thank you to all the lovelies who have reviewed, and especially the repeated reviewers! The more reviews/favs/follows I get the faster I'll want to update so please please give me feedback! I, like Azula and her mommy-complex, must has your love! **


	7. Vulnerability

Ch6: Vulnerability

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Katara drifted in and out of consciousness all night. She could feel how feverishly hot her skin was against the cement floor but even still she shivered with cold.

And then, all of a sudden, she was wrapped once again in a familiar warmth. A pair of strong arms cradled her limp body against a solid but soft frame as she felt herself being carried out of her cell. Still half-unconscious, she wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing the way his scorching skin felt against hers, and buried her face where neck met shoulder. She could smell wine and smoke mingled with his usual irresistible scent.

She inhaled deeply and she moaned softly against his skin. She just barely noticed his body stiffening around her, and was only lulled into a calm and comfortable doze by the rhythm of his gait. Then, she felt herself being lowered down onto a soft cushioned surface; Katara couldn't even recall the last time she had slept in a bed. But then she felt his warm embrace leaving her as she sank into the fluffy mattress.

Still not entirely awake, Katara reached out weakly for his touch.

"No…don't go…" she murmured.

After what seemed like an eternity, his body came to rest against hers once more. He was lying next to her now, but he still felt too far away. She twined her arms around his neck, and sought to draw him even nearer. She gasped as he wrapped an arm around her bare waist. As their bodies collided, she felt a rush of electricity blaze through her body like lightening.

Katara pulled herself up to press her face once more against his neck. With her mouth against his skin, she breathed him in. His scent was absolutely intoxicating and she happily drowned herself in it. She ached to taste him. Parting her lips, she gave his skin a tentative lick with her soft tongue.

His entire body shuddered around her and she could feel him tilting his head back to arch into her mouth. Then, she suddenly felt his lips against her face, placing soft, blazing kisses over her forehead, then her eyes, and then her cheeks. He stopped as he reached her lower cheek, his lips pausing just at the corner of her mouth. Raking her fingers up into his hair, Katara pulled his mouth down to meet hers.

She hummed quietly into the kiss as he trailed his fingers slowly up her back and underneath her shirt. She parted her lips and melded their mouths together. He tasted just as divine as he smelled. Katara was losing her mind with the way he moved his tongue and mouth against hers. When she pulled away, gasping for breath, he continued to lick and kiss from her mouth, across her jaw, to her neck.

"Zuko…" She moaned as he sucked tenderly at her pulse.

She slid her hands down to his back and around to his chest, desperate to touch as much of him as she could. His scalding touch grazed across her skin. She wrapped a leg around his hip and he immediately lowered a hand to grasp her thigh. Everywhere his skin met hers burned like fire.

Katara's head was pounding with desire and her blood burned in her veins. Their mouths came together once more and she moulded her body against his so that they touched chest for chest, hip to hip, legs intertwined. Laying on top of him in this way, she suddenly realized that at some point, they had removed each other's clothes so that now, absolutely nothing stood between their bodies. Her entire being burned with the heat of his skin and she sensed a white-hot fire consuming her from within.

Almost by raw instinct, she rubbed her body against his, grinding their hips together. It was the most delicious sort of friction, and she heard an involuntary whimper escape her lips at the movement. In an instant, his lips were back on her neck, his hands sliding down her frame to grip her waist as she continued to grind her body into his.

His hardened length was rubbing directly against her core and Katara could feel her sex thoroughly wet and burning hot with desire. With his tongue still laving at her neck and clavicle, she slid a hand down the length of his body to wrap her fingers around him. He groaned and scraped his fingernails across her back at her touch. She guided him slowly into her and slid her hips down to engulf him entirely.

He groaned her name over and over, his lips vibrating as they passed across her neck and jaw to lock back onto her mouth. The sensation of him inside her did nothing to quell her burning desire. If anything, she only felt more feverish with need now that his heat ignited her from within. She moved her hips against his slowly at first, with her movements growing increasingly frenzied as the fire inside her mounted.

She was gripping his shoulders and crying out his name as her pleasure continued to build and build. The fire from her centre was spreading out into her torso and her limbs, with every rotation of her hips bringing another wave of pleasure crashing through her body. She could sense it burning up every fibre of her being, using all that she had to fuel their frantic movements. Even as it consumed her whole, she could still feel it continuing to grow, higher, hotter and more and more.

And then.

She woke up with a gasp.

She wasn't lying on top of Zuko, their bodies interlocked in heated ecstasy.

She was sitting up in bed, surrounded by a chilly darkness, very much alone.

Suddenly she realized that half of her vision was gone. Panicking, she scrabbled at her face, tearing off the gauze that had been covering her right eye and the worst of the burn on her right cheek.

For a moment, she blinked as her eyes tried to re-adjust equally to the darkness. Only then did she realize that she wasn't, in fact, alone in the room.

Zuko was softly snoring away on the couch across from the bed. His shaggy black hair covered part of his face and his chest gently rose and fell with each breath. Upon registering his presence, Katara felt her body suddenly ignite with arousal. Pulling her silken blankets closer around herself, she blushed ferociously and willed her dream-induced desire to go away.

She looked away from Zuko's sleeping form and took in her surroundings. She was lying in a massive four-poster bed, with red silk sheets and half a dozen soft, overstuffed pillows. The room was very spacious, with unlit gold sconces carved in the shape of fire-breathing dragons lining the walls. There was only the bed, the couch, and an elaborate tapestry that she couldn't quite make out on the wall in this part of the room, but Katara could tell that this was only a small section of the entire suite.

They were clearly in Zuko's own private quarters, and she was currently lying in Zuko's bed while he slept on the couch.

_He must have carried me down from the tower and treated my wounds here himself…_

She glanced back at Zuko, still fast asleep.

_Why do you have to make hating you so damn difficult…_

* * *

Zuko woke up just before dawn. There was a knot between his shoulder blades and his limbs ached from the night spent on the couch. Rubbing the back of his neck he glanced over at the bed only to find it–

_Empty?_

He jumped to his feet and quickly scanned the room but Katara was nowhere to be seen.

Zuko grabbed his clothes and tugged them on as he prayed that he would find her before Azula – or worse, Ozai, did.

He suddenly felt as though a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on his head.

_What if they've already found her?_

Zuko swore and quickened his pace, throwing on a pair of shoes and practically sprinting for the door. Just as his hand closed around the doorknob, he heard a noise from the bathroom. Without a second thought, he crossed the room and flung the door open.

Simultaneously, he heard a shriek and was drenched by a blast of hot, soapy water. Realizing his mistake, Zuko hastily backed out and shut the door again, mumbling hurried apologies all the while.

He wiped the water out of his eyes and leaned his back against the closed door. He let go of a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and tilted his head back against the door.

_She's okay, she's safe, and she's here. That's all that matters._

Even still, he felt his face grow hot as he recalled the flash of skin he saw before shutting the door. Shaking his head, Zuko sat back down on the couch to wait for her.

Thinking more clearly now, he realized how much it made sense for her to want to be reunited with her element.

When Zuko had found her in the tower, Katara's entire body was burning with fever. And under the fire light of his room, he had noticed the true severity of her other injuries.

He had cleaned her wounds as best as he could, and applied a salve over the worst of them before wrapping them with bandages.

Before, when he was attending to her wounds, he hadn't looked at her body in any capacity beyond inspecting her for damage. But just then, with the glow of the approaching dawn and the glistening of her wet skin…

Zuko groaned and pressed his fingers to his temples, hoping to Agni that she wouldn't kill him when she came out.

* * *

Katara hadn't had enough water to bathe properly for weeks. And considering how unlikely escape would've been in her condition, she had decided to take advantage of her surroundings and have a bath.

Upon removing her clothes, she had found more bandages: one around her lower ribcage and another across her left calf. Trying not to think of scorching fingers and naked skin, she had slowly unwrapped the bandages to reveal more burn marks that she hadn't even noticed before. They were several days old now, but were still tender to the touch. To accompany them were many yellowing bruises sustained from the day of the solar eclipse and from being shoved from cell to cell.

Even as she stepped into the water, she could feel herself being revived. Katara was a waterbender who had gone without water for too long. Sinking into the bathtub, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Her temperature was still high, making bending difficult but even just submerging herself in water she could already feel her body being rejuvenated.

Looking down she examined the wound on her torso. She briefly recalled having been slashed at with a fire whip. A strip of burned skin a few inches thick stretched across her upper waist and lower ribcage. She hovered one hand over the middle of the wound, just above her belly button, and watched as the water began to glow bright blue. Passing her hand across her wound, she watched as it mended to a faint red scar, several weeks older than it was.

She repeated the process over the burns on her calf, the origins of which were completely lost to her. Then she cupped a handful of water and carefully placed it on her cheek. The burns on her face felt much different from the rest on her body. It was still quite fresh, and the firebender had been much closer when he struck. Without the haste and mayhem of battle, his attack had been all the more focused.

Zuko was right, the wounds on her face were infected, no doubt from the nights spent pressed against the ground, trying to soothe the burns with the cold cement of her tower cell or the damp wooden floorboards of the ship's prison hold. She could already feel her body weakening with the effort it took to heal itself and, after making sure she had thoroughly removed the infection and closed the wound, she stopped.

Katara sank her body back against the bathtub and tried to catch her breath.

And then_ he_ had burst into the room. Crying out in surprise and embarrassment, Katara had flung bath water at him with one hand while trying to cover her body with the other.

Zuko had quickly backed out, apologizing profusely, but her relaxing time in the water had been disrupted. Thoroughly flustered by his sudden entrance, Katara quickly stepped out of the tub and dried herself off.

She had been shamelessly bold in her dream but real life was another matter. Her initial embarrassment was already melting away into anger as she tugged on some spare clean clothes she had found in his room and flung open the door.

"What the hell was that?" she growled.

Zuko snapped his head up. "I'm sorry! I was afraid you'd escaped or someone had found you here."

"What could you possibly have thought I was doing in there?"

He stood and put his hands out defensively in front of him. "Look, I already said I was sorry," he paused. "And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't see anything, okay?"

Katara blushed ferociously. She glared at him, fuming, for a moment.

"If I wasn't still sick I could've killed you, you know."

He lifted the left corner of his mouth into a half-smirk. "I know."

Then, "You feel better now, though, right? You look like you've healed yourself."

She ignored his comment and continued to look at him, shaking her head slightly. "I just…I don't get you. What do you want? Why are you helping me?"

Zuko hesitated in answering. "I owe you and besides, I couldn't stand to watch them treat you that way. And Azula…" He looked away. "She wanted to have you executed as soon as you docked and I just couldn't let that happen."

He looked back at Katara, who was now leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Hey, do you want to sit down? Like you said, you're still pretty sick."

"Fine." She had in fact started to feel somewhat lightheaded. All the healing and the anger had taken its toll on her already lacking strength.

She took a seat on one end of the couch, while Zuko sat down on the other, keeping a very conscious distance between them.

"But," she continued. "You still haven't answered my question. I still don't understand why you're doing any of this. I don't want your pity if that's all this is. And if you've somehow gotten the notion that you owe me some sort of debt, consider it nullified. You don't have to do me any favours."

He scrutinized her carefully. It somehow made Katara feel big and small all at once. She truly didn't know what to make of Zuko anymore. He had been so vulnerable in the crystal caves and so caring to her now. But she had also seen him switch sides before her very eyes. She had watched him hurt her friends, betray her trust, even hold her for ransom. Zuko had hunted her and her friends from the South Pole to the North, all across the world from East to West and back again.

But the way he looked at her now, he was…tender.

"I don't…entirely know why I'm doing this," he began hesitantly. "But I know for certain that I'm the only friend you have in this place. Right now, pretty much everyone else wants to see you dead. You're not unintelligent; you must know how important you are to the resistance movement – what's left of it anyway. It would mean a lot less trouble for the Fire Nation if they got rid of you once and for all. My father is currently pre-occupied with his victory but Azula's taken notice of you."

Katara's face blanched. "What victory?"

"Oh…I forgot, you wouldn't have known locked away in the tower," he frowned, seemingly conflicted at his following words. "The war is over. The Fire Nation has won and my father has declared himself supreme ruler of the world and all four – well, really, only three – nations."

Katara shook her head as her heart started to beat fast. "But the Northern Water tribe…"

"…has fallen to Admiral Zhao and his troops," Zuko hesitated before carefully placing his hand over hers. "I'm sorry."

She flinched and jerked her hand away like she had been branded by his touch. "No you're not," she retorted, her eyes starting to glaze over with tears. "How can you be? You're living it up here in the palace while the rest of the world is burning down to ashes. How many people have you and your family killed? How many families have you destroyed? How many women, children, elderly, innocent human beings have you _murdered_?"

Her face was screwed up in horror and sorrow. Zuko couldn't help but mirror her expression on his own face.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know…"

"If you think that helping one waterbender will rectify all of your sins you're wrong because nothing…nothing can fix the damage you and your people have done to this world. Saving me, protecting me doesn't change anything about the terrible things you have done and the cruel indifference you seem to have towards the injustices right in front of you."

As tears streaked down her face, Katara let out a bitter laugh. "You've traveled the world just as much as I have, if not more. So you would have seen, up close and first hand, the suffering that this war, that the tyranny of the Fire Nation have caused. You don't even have the excuse of ignorance. You _do_ know, but you actively choose to ignore the reality so that you can continue on in your perfect little life."

Zuko grit his teeth. "My life is not so perfect. I've been the disgrace of my family and by extension this nation for since childhood. You think I haven't been hurt or experienced loss as a result of the Fire Lord? That's all my entire life has been is pain and disappointment! To an outsider it may look like I have a lot to gain from this victory but believe me, the Fire Nation has not been kind to me – my own family has not been kind to me."

He raised his chin so that his face caught the light of the rising sun. "I'm just as alone as you are. And I have a lot less power and freedom than you think."

Katara closed her eyes and took a breath. "Just tell me this…what are you going to do to my friends?"

There was silence. When Katara opened her eyes again, Zuko was looking at her in agony. His beautiful, golden eyes were shimmering under the sunlight.

With a tortured howl she summoned a jet of water and hurled it towards him as a blade of ice. Zuko waved his hands up in front of him, forming a wall of fire that instantly evaporated the water into steam.

As the smoke cleared, Katara fell back into the couch, utterly spent, and drew her knees into her body. When she felt him put an arm around her shoulder, she didn't recoil, and only leaned into his comforting warmth and sobbed her heart out into his chest.

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**A/N: Before you kill me for the highly OOC sex scene – it was supposed to be that way because it was a dream/hallucination brought on by a very high fever. Also Katara's latent sexual fantasies. (The actual thing once I get to it will of course not go so smoothly.)**

**Obviously now I have to address, like so many other Zutara fics, the age issue. Katara and Zuko are both a few years older in my story than they were in the show. This is to accommodate more mature themes – not just the fun sexy stuff, but generally more adult issues that I don't think a fourteen y/o girl or sixteen y/o guy would realistically be going through. Not to slam the fourteen y/o girls and sixteen y/o guys out there (live your teenagehood to the fullest, I say this as my own adulthood looms menacingly on the horizon.)**

**Now all that's out of the way; WHAT DID YOU THINK? This is the chapter I've been pushing back for weeks, so, now that it's finally here, how did you like it? Too much cute/awkward/sexy-ness? Too little? I know I've been putting down Zuko quite a bit, but he will come to his own eventually. Once again your feedback good, bad, hopefully all constructive, is very much appreciated! Special shout-outs to:**

**jbrand5: You **_**get**_** me; I was totally going for the dramatic-Zuko-runs-out-the-door-to-save-Katara!**

**LilyAvatarLotus: TY for appreciating the Maiko, its not my ship but I respect it. As for Azula, I expect the usual cray but I haven't quite gotten to her yet, she may just do a 180 on me…hmm…**


	8. Priorities

Ch7: Priorities

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Zuko imagined that, in a different set of circumstances, he would've been overjoyed by his current predicament.

He was half lying on the couch, all but trapped underneath a very warm and fast asleep Katara. Her face was propped against his collar, and her chest pressed intimately against his while Zuko's arms were wrapped protectively around her waist. He could feel her every breath by the exhalation tickling his neck and the agonizing rise and fall of her chest.

As it were, nothing about this was as sublime as it should or could have been. If only her body wasn't warm from a lingering fever. If only she hadn't cried herself to an exhausted sleep in his arms. If only she wouldn't push him away when she woke.

If only he hadn't been with someone else. If only he hadn't done the things he had done. If only he wasn't who he was.

If only they–

Zuko shoved away the half-formed thought. He couldn't let his mind stray down that path.

He looked down at Katara's face, slightly scrunched in a frown even in sleep.

No, if he let himself go there, he may never be able to turn back.

With a sigh, he gingerly shifted his body out from underneath Katara's. As he did so, the waterbender made a soft mewling noise in protest of the loss of warmth. Resisting with all his willpower the urge to lie back down at once and return his arms to the curve if her waist, Zuko straightened and backed away. As an afterthought, he grabbed a blanket and draped it over her before turning away once more and walking out before he could change his mind.

As soon as he was out the door, Zuko started moving, letting his feet carry him away. The destination didn't matter; as long as he could get away from the torment that was the intoxicating, infuriating waterbender.

What was he going to do now? How much longer could he hide her in his room? How much longer before someone got to her? How much longer before she escaped herself?

This was madness and he knew it. What was he even thinking helping her in the first place? How could she ever forgive him, let alone trust him, after all he had done to her? They were from two worlds that were not just different from one another, but in direct opposition. They were prince and peasant, Fire Nation and Water Tribe, sun and moon. Even the mere existence of the one entailed a direct assault upon the other. For all intents and purposes, Zuko should have let her die…

Maybe back there, on the dock, he would've been able to feign disinterest and leave her to the mercy of the Fire Nation. He shouldn't have walked over at all. He should have turned around and forgotten about her. But the moment she looked back at him; the vilification in her eyes...he had just wanted so badly to prove her wrong, to show her that he wasn't the monster she thought he was. And then, when he had found out she was to be executed…all he could think was: _Not her, not her._

Now, Zuko didn't know if he would be able to let her go. Every fibre of his being rejected the notion.

As the temperature around him suddenly dropped, Zuko finally awoke to his surroundings. He had found his way to the dungeons – not the tower where Katara had stayed, nor the prisons where friends were presumably being held, but rather the dungeons that held long term prisoners.

The dungeons where Uncle Iroh was carrying out his lifelong prison sentence.

The guards allowed him to pass without contest, and Zuko grew increasingly anxious as he approached his uncle's cell. He had visited only once before, but the conversation – if one could even call it that – had ended badly. If he recalled correctly, he had angrily told Iroh to rot away in his cell for the rest of his life for all he cared before storming out.

He needed Iroh, now more than ever. He couldn't tell right from wrong anymore, and now, for the first time in a long time, he cared.

Zuko paused in front of the heavy cell door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

Iroh sat, cross-legged in the centre of his cell, with his eyes closed and his hands crossed underneath his long sleeves. He did not stir when Zuko entered, only continued to meditate.

Zuko approached the metal bars separating them hesitantly. He knelt down to sit in front of his uncle, crossing his legs to mirror his position.

He didn't speak for several seconds more, only looked upon the face of the man he so admired and loved – the face of the man who had once so believed in him. Zuko's mouth was like sandpaper and his tongue felt like lead.

"How have you been?" he began.

There was no response.

"I don't know if you'll know by now but the Fire Nation has won the war," Zuko continued. "The Northern Water Tribe has fallen and Ozai plans to recrown himself the Phoenix King, ruler of the world, on the day of Sozin's Comet."

Zuko paused to see if there was a reaction, but Iroh only sat still, as though he had not hear him at all.

"And I...I have been appointed the new Fire Lord in his place."

Silence.

Zuko sighed. "Uncle, I need your help; I don't know what to do. Ever since I got here, I've felt…neither happy nor sad. I don't even know what to think of our victory or my coronation. I know I should be over the moon but…I'm not. I've just been frustrated and on edge.

"Most of all, I've been afraid. I was afraid that father would have me banished or executed for failing to kill the avatar. Then I was afraid that Azula would do something terrible after she found out I would become Fire Lord. And now, more than anything else, I'm afraid of myself…of what I have the power to do, or not do.

"I'm afraid for the world. I used to only care about honour; it didn't matter to me what honour was worth or what I had to do to get it. But now, I can't even figure myself out, let alone decide what's best for an entire nation. I know that I don't want to rule like Azula or Ozai or Sozin…I don't want to wage war, send men to their deaths, destroy other peoples. I just…I want to do the right thing. But I can't even begin to figure out what that is.

"Uncle…" Zuko's voice broke, his face skewed in agony. "I'm afraid I've already become a monster…"

He swallowed, struggling to utter the words he so feared to admit out loud.

"I've done a terrible thing, uncle. When father told me I would be Fire Lord, he said that I would have to be ruthless. He wanted me to prove it by…by having me personally sentence all of the rebels from the Day of Black Sun to death."

He looked away from his uncle and stared down at his hands.

"I don't want my first act Fire Lord to be slaughter - but I had to. I need to have power to protect her…Katara. She...she traveled with the avatar. She's a waterbender…Azula wanted to have her killed but I couldn't just let her die so I've been hiding her from the rest of court."

The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth one after the other as he tried to explain the inexplicable.

"I just…want her to be safe. And I can't keep her safe from Azula, from father, from anyone, if I'm not Fire Lord. I know she already hates me but when she finds out what I've done…it doesn't matter, I don't care if she despises me. As long as I can keep her alive…"

He looked up and was startled to see Iroh's haggard gold eyes staring back at him. He continued to look at Zuko silently for a time, eyes weary but glowing curiously in the dim light.

"Are you in love with her?" He asked slowly, softly.

Zuko was quiet. He could feel a thousand emotions bubbling just under the surface but he push them down, struggling to keep any from spilling over. If he even let one of his emotions escape, he might just explode…

"I don't know…"

* * *

It was the sun that finally woke her. Katara had slept all morning and by the time she woke for the second time that day, the sun was at its zenith and her fever was all but gone.

She yawned and pushed herself up from the couch, swinging her legs around to the floor. On the small table in front of the couch was a tray of food and tea. A small slip of paper was propped up against the teapot. Katara picked it up. In a hasty, impatient scrawl was a single word: "Eat."

She smiled and reached for a pastry covered in sesame seeds. She took a bite, her teeth sinking into a buttery and flaky pastry with a red bean paste on the inside. As she ate, she realized just how ravenous she was; her last meal had been back in the tower and considerably less decadent than what Zuko had left for her.

After emptying her plate and a cup of lukewarm tea, Katara stood up and made her way back to the bathroom.

Last night, she had been too preoccupied with finally taking a bath and being in her element to notice her reflection.

Now, she braced herself for the worst as she walked with her eyes lowered resolutely at the ground towards the oval mirror she knew was set in the wall over a washbasin. She placed her hands on either side of the sink to steady herself, took a deep breath

- and looked.

She watched as her reflection widened its eyes in shock, hands flying up to its face. She had been disfigured. A slash of red streaked across her entire face, grazing the bottom of her lip and wrapping around her right cheek all the way to her ear and neck. Puckered layers of irritated and half-healed skin raised her once flawless complexion into a series of grotesque grooves and fissures. Where her face wasn't a mud red or an ugly yellow, it was grey and sunken in with malnutrition and fatigue. In the slightly gold tinted mirror, even her clear blue eyes looked like dirty dishwater.

Katara reached up to press her fingers lightly to the corner of her mouth, just on the edge of her burn then grazed her fingertips across her mangled cheek into her hair. Strands of hair ended in twisted burnt clumps unevenly all across the right side of her head. Some pieces stopped at the shoulder while others ended almost at her scalp.

Katara could feel tears stinging in her eyes. She wouldn't be able to put her hair up like the other Southern Water Tribe women anymore. She no longer resembled her mother or her father. All anyone would ever see when they looked into her face was a scar, a weakness, a loss. She would never be considered pretty again. The most she could hope for was pity…

_I'll be just like Zuko…_

She flushed as she recalled the first time she had seen him so long ago in the South Pole. Even then, when she had been truly powerless and afraid, she had only to take one look at his face to start feeling sorry for him. No matter what he was, who he was, what he did - his scar told his story for him, told the entire world of his ugly history with fire.

And now, Katara would be the same.

_But I will not be weak. I refuse to be._

Her expression hardened and she abruptly turned from the mirror and began opening cabinets and rifling through shelves. A few moments later, she found it – a pair of scissors. Turning around to face her reflection once more, she took a section of hair and cut. Locks of her long brown hair fell to the floor, one after the other, until the ground at her feet was covered in her hair.

She placed the scissors on the counter with a clink. Her hair was now shorter than Zuko's, leaving her neck and face completely exposed, with tufts of hair sticking out all around her head. Incredibly, her reflection in the mirror cracked a smile.

Katara was suddenly struck by how similar she now looked to her brother...

_Sokka, hang in there…_

…_I'm coming._

* * *

There were a lot of things Zuko could think of that would be infinitely more pleasant than the meeting he was currently attending. Battling a dragon for instance, or being eaten alive by fire ants.

Shortly after he had left the dungeons, he had been called to a meeting with the Fire Lord and the rest of the imperial council to discuss his new position as future Fire Lord and the various issues currently plaguing the Fire Nation and its colonies. Currently, he was sitting between his father and some commander recently returned from the North Pole. Azula was ignoring him resolutely from her seat on the Fire Lord's other side, as they all waited for the meeting to commence.

If it was anyone else other than Azula, Zuko would have felt bad for the turn of events, but this was _Azula_. If anyone deserved pity right now, it would be Zuko for having become the primary object of her wrath.

Next to him the Fire Lord straightened in his seat and spread his hands on the table before them. Within seconds the din around the table died to an absolute silence. Ozai slowly flicked his eyes across the room at the assemblage of persons seated around the table. Then he sat back once more, rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair and folded his hands above his lap. Then, in a tone that reflected a discussion of the weather on a particularly uneventful day, he began to speak.

"As you are all aware, Prince Zuko will, in a few weeks time, become the new Fire Lord. As Fire Lord, he will naturally assume responsibility of all domestic affairs in the Fire Nation as well as oversee the leadership of our overseas colonies. But our meeting today does not solely concern Zuko's leadership," Ozai paused, tapping his thumbs together casually.

"In this new world, we will be establishing new leadership for every nation under the command of the Phoenix King. In fact, this has already begun, in the Earth Kingdom, where virtually all power has been consolidated by Princess Azula."

Zuko glanced over at his younger sister, who smiled slightly, still staring straight ahead.

"Today I am officially proclaiming Princess Azula the first Queen of the Earth Kingdom under the empire of the Phoenix King," Ozai paused as polite applause broke out around the table. The reaction was appropriate but not overly enthusiastic; her promotion was only to be expected as Azula had essentially been running the entire Earth Kingdom since the beginning of the summer. In fact, she had started her rule even earlier counting the time she had spent manipulating key Earth Kingdom leaders under disguise.

Ozai carried on in the same flippant tone: "The Water tribes will be under the rule of Admiral Zhao, who, as you all know, is currently working to establish control in the North Pole."

Zuko frowned; at the celebration banquet, his father had declared the Northern Water Tribes completely defeated. Did this mean that they were still fighting back?

"The Air Nomad temples and islands I will be handling personally," Ozai continued, "But that will be a topic for another time. As for now, Commander Zu – " he gestured towards the man on Zuko's right " – has news for us from the North Pole."

The commander cleared his throat.

"Thank you, your majesty. A hawk was sent to the Capital a few days ago reporting that our forces had defeated the Northern Water Tribe. While the main Water tribe army along with its leaders have been decimated and dispersed, several pockets of resistance still remain," he cleared his throat again. The commander's voice was firm but Zuko could see him tapping his foot nervously under the table.

"The reason Admiral Zhao ordered me back to the Capital was to gather fresh recruits to bolster our remaining armies in the north and hopefully eliminate the opposition once and for all."

Someone from the council asked a question about the number of battle ships in the north but Zuko's mind was already racing for away from the council table. If the Northern Water tribe was not yet defeated, then the war was still not over. His reign would begin not only with the execution of Katara's friends and family, but the death sentences of his fellow Fire Nation citizens…

As he tuned back into the discussion at the table, he caught the end of another council member's question: "…news on the Southern Water Tribe?"

Commander Zu shook his head, smiling slightly. "No need to worry about the south; the Southern Water Tribe at this time is almost non-existent. Every southern water bender has been killed and most of their men were among the Avatar's final resistance force."

_Not every southern water bender…_ Zuko thought to himself.

"That will be all, Commander," the Fire Lord interjected. "Azula, give us your report on the state of the Earth Kingdom."

Azula, who had already been sitting rigidly at attention, straightened even more in her seat. "Documentation of all earth benders in the kingdom is almost complete. Our current registry shows that the major cities houses the largest proportion and the largest populations of earth benders, and specially trained guards have been sent to patrol in those areas. Registered benders have been issued mandatory armbands to be worn at all times for easy identification. I am currently in the process of reorganizing the leadership across the Earth Kingdom, reappointing major positions to Fire Nation leaders. I am also happy to report that my Dai Li agents have successfully located the former Earth King and his bear. Resistance has been in steady decline since the fall of Ba Sing Se, however, a public execution of the former Earth King has nonetheless been scheduled. It will serve as a powerful deterrent against any future challenges to Fire Nation rule."

Zuko sighed. No matter how sadistic and heartless, Azula was undeniably still incredibly intelligent and endlessly ambitious. Her report had been succinct, eloquent, and above all entirely positive, a feat that no one short of phenomenal could accomplish in times like these.

Ozai nodded, very evidently pleased. He made a few short inquiries, to which Azula answered flawlessly, before turning to Zuko. His expression dimmed by a just barely noticeable degree.

"Zuko, would you care to present to council your first orders of action as Fire Lord."

"Uh, yes, certainly," he took a shallow breath. "In spite of our many successful campaigns overseas, our national security and the safety of our own people must still take precedent. The recent attempted invasion by the Avatar and his followers is hopefully the last that we shall see of its kind, seeing as the Avatar has finally been defeated, once and for all."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Zuko realized his mistake. A few council members coughed discreetly, while the Fire Lord's lips pressed tightly together in displeasure.

"Um, yes. So, our national security," Zuko could feel his face heating up, but he forced himself to look away from the direction of his father – and Azula, who no doubt would be smirking smugly by now – and pushed on. "The captured rebels from the the Day of Black Sun – or rather, the uh day before the Day of Black Sun – will be punished accordingly."

Zuko paused and glanced over at the Fire Lord, who raised an eyebrow expectedly.

"…That is, all of the captured shall be executed in order to ensure that they will pose no more danger to us and to deter any others from attempting a future attack or act of rebellion."

A few sympathetic council members nodded their encouragement, while others simply looked on judgmentally. The latter seemed to have all turned their attentions toward Ozai to watch his reaction to Zuko's thoroughly lackluster speech.

And then, a clear and high voice suddenly cut through the tense silence.

"Excuse me, Prince Zuko, but if these executions are not made public, they won't really be sending much of a message would they?"

Everyone turned to Azula and then back at Zuko for his response.

"Ah, well –"

"In fact," Azula continued. "You ought to have them all hung in the Royal Plaza outside the city gates, maybe keep a few of the bodies up there for public viewing for a week or so as well."

Zuko tried and failed to mask his horror with anger.

"You didn't mention this when you were describing your plan of action, but I assume you will be personally presiding over this event as the nation's new leader, will you not?"

Azula was practically beaming; in this room, she was utterly in her element while Zuko was sorely out of his depth. Regardless of titles, Azula was the one who had stayed in court for all those years, honing her skills and collecting experience while Zuko was living out his banishment and chasing after the Avatar in vain. Azula was and would always be the better leader, the master manipulator, and commander of every room.

"Excellent, Zuko, do as the princess has suggested. I expect this execution to take place within the next few days; we have already wasted too many resourecs housing these rebels," Ozai moved on from Zuko to question some governor from a wealth colony on his declining exports.

For the rest of the meeting Zuko felt as though he was slowly being burned alive from the inside out. Not only had he made a fool of himself in front of council, but he would now have to plan and exact the most horrifying event of his life. As soon as the council adjourned, he made a dash for the door and practically sprinted all the way back to his quarters.

When he pushed open the door, he was surprised to find Katara asleep once more in his bed. He noticed three things in succession: first, the darkness outside – the meeting had apparently stretched out through the entire afternoon and evening.

Then he saw her hair, cropped short.

He smiled; so she had decided to live and fight after all.

His thoughts turned once more to Iroh's lone question to him…

If Zuko was certain about anything, it was that he admired Katara for her strength, for her passion, and her loyalty. As for his other feelings…in a few days, she would hate him irrevocably anyway; any other feelings, existent or not, were not permitted…

The third and last thing Zuko noticed was the shirt she was wearing. It was his, and it looked too big for her frame, too red against her skin, and too ill fitting to be comfortable, but it was his and she was wearing it. It was his shirt. She was wearing his shirt.

After conjuring a quick mental excuse about how tired he was, Zuko promptly pushed all extraneous thoughts – confused, jumbled, and undecipherable as they were – out of his head.

Before he could reconsider, he climbed gingerly into the other side of the bed and lay down next to her. Almost at once, Zuko fell deeply asleep, the image of Katara with her burn scar and her short hair and his red shirt embedded thoroughly in his soul.

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**A/N: Yikes, it's been over two weeks since the last update. Since then, I've gotten a full-time job doing very tiring and time-consuming work. I've also been busy spending my last summer before going away to university with my friends. But don't you worry; I've been thoroughly tormented by this story the entire time and have basically counted up the days it's been since the last update. So yes, essentially, this story is consuming my life but I love it and will never leave it no matter how much work and life get in the way. Internet, fandom, Zutara come first. Always.**

**Tell me how you feel about chapters like these; there's less Zutara fluff or even just interaction in general but quite a bit of other character/plot development things. I just don't want Zuko and Katara to literally only build themselves up on each other so, for that (and other reasons), I have to put them in other situations outside of the other's company (so please don't hate me for it!). The really juicy stuff (not necessarily lemony stuff before anyone gets ideas…) is happening in Ch. 9-10 so get excited because I'm excited! **

**À la prochaine!**


	9. Groundwork

Chapter 8: Groundwork

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When Katara opened her eyes, all she could see was gold.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon and had spilled its rays of liquid gold into the room. Every corner was flooded with its luminous glow and bathed in a radiant light.

Katara, however, was looking into a pair of golden eyes that were somehow even more brilliant than the light of the breaking dawn. Those eyes blinked back at her before crinkling slightly as the face that housed them broke into a slow, sleepy smile.

"Good morning," Zuko said softly, voice still muffled by sleep.

Katara stared back wordlessly for a moment, stunned by his proximity and still dazzled by his eyes. Then she abruptly broke eye contact, jerking away to turn her face and her body up to the ceiling. Although she couldn't quite see him anymore, she was still acutely aware of his body next to her; she could sense the dip in the mattress where his weight sank into it, she could feel the heat of his body warming them both under the covers, and she could smell his thoroughly dizzying scent washing over her body in waves.

Katara stayed silent as she listened to the sound of her own heartbeat pounding out a rhythm to her uncertainty in her chest. Quickly, she ran through the events of the night prior in her head: she had eaten another meal – delivered by a servant who left immediately after knocking on the door – taken a quick bath to wash off the sweat of a day's training, and fallen asleep in bed, quite alone. Which meant that Zuko had joined her at some point later that night.

She suddenly realized that she was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt - _his_ shirt. She remembered her tired and impulsive decision the night before to pull on one of his clean shirts over her freshly scrubbed body before passing out, completely drained, in bed. She remembered wanting to fall asleep wrapped in his scent…

Katara felt a blush creeping across her flesh, from her collarbones to her chest to her cheeks.

The mattress suddenly shifted under her body as Zuko moved; in her periphery, Katara could see him sitting up and turn away.

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have done that, " he said, as he started to get up.

Katara turned her head back in his direction. "No…it's fine," she heard herself say. "After all, it _is _your bed…"

He stopped moving, poised at the edge of the mattress, but didn't turn around. She watched, face still flushed, as he pressed the tips of his fingers into his forehead and dragged them slowly through his hair and back down to hook around his neck. With his hands wrapped around the back of his neck and his face tilted up towards the ceiling, Zuko fell silent once more.

Katara pushed herself up to seating as well, turning to lean her shoulder against the headboard and face Zuko.

"I…wanted to thank you," she began hesitantly. "For saving me. We both know you did't have to…that it's even dangerous for you to, but…you helped me anyway."

She fiddled anxiously with a corner of the bed covers. "So…thank you."

After a second, he unfroze, sliding his hands down from his neck to rest on his knees with a sigh. Then he turned around, shifting his legs back up onto the mattress, drawing one knee up to rest his arm upon. Zuko looked into her eyes once more, but his were now tinged with something...melancholy.

"You're welcome."

Katara found herself once more mesmerized; something about the complexity of his eyes, the depth of his emotions drew her in. She wanted to understand him, comfort him, just as he had done for her.

Above all, she wanted to test her own chaotic feelings against his and try to make sense of all that she was feeling.

_How can I be so selfish at a time like this…I should be focused on the others right now, not on my petty feelings…_

She drew her tongue over her dry lips and pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. As she did so, she noticed his eyes flick down to her mouth for a brief moment.

Still blushing, Katara pushed that piece of information aside. "I was wondering if…you had anymore news about…"

She let the question taper off without an end. Even as she just started speaking again, she could see the understanding register in his eyes. She could also see the wordless response reflected in them.

Zuko looked away. "I'm sorry but there is nothing to be done. Fire Lord Ozai is adamant in his decision…he won't be swayed on this."

Katara knew this would be the answer but felt fresh tears pooling in her eyes anyway. After another moment in silence, she mustered the energy to speak once more: "And…my father?"

Her voice shook.

Zuko hesitated, eyes still far away. "I don't know for sure, but he's either dead by now or will be soon…"

Katara felt her body go numb.

He turned to face her once more, his entire body shifting in her direction. "Truly, I wish I could…But I…"

She tried to focus on Zuko, on the fact that he seemed more distressed, at least outwardly, than she was. Tried to look at him, be aware of him, figure him out, rather than sink back into the darkness that threatened to pull her under. But she didn't want to try anymore, just wanted to let herself go…

Katara drew her knees up into her chest, folding her arms over her legs and clutching them tightly with her fingers. Resting her head onto the headboard, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry for something that may have already taken place and that may already be too late to try to fix. Somewhere in her mind, she registered Zuko apologize quietly once more.

"I'm going to break them out," she uttered softly, eyes still closed.

"What?" If his voice was anything to go by, Zuko was alarmed. "You can't do that; you would just end up dying with them."

Katara felt him moving closer and opened her eyes just as Zuko reached out to place his hands on her shoulders.

"The Fire Lord doesn't know you're here yet, but if you try to escape, with or without your friends, anyone could catch you and bring you directly to him – or even worse, to Azula." Zuko was sitting on his heels, his body fully facing hers now.

"And Azula would…" He stopped short. "She wants to get back at me and more importantly, she already knows about you. You can't try anything right now, okay?" He was pleading with her now.

"Katara, please. _Promise_ me you won't do anything reckless."

"What does Azula want to get back at you for?" she asked. It seemed to be working, focusing on Zuko. His distress was not hers and the way his hands felt against her skin was not altogether unpleasant – No, that wasn't doing him justice; his touch felt distracting and electrifying in the best sort of way.

"Azula is…disappointed that she was not appointed the next Fire Lord." Unfortunately, at this point, Zuko removed his hands from her shoulders. He sat back and crossed his legs in front of his body, resting his hands in his lap. "Ozai has decided to crown himself Phoenix King and ruler of all four nations. He has given the title of Fire Lord…to me."

"You don't seem very thrilled by the prospect," Katara noted.

"To be honest, I'm really not," he frowned. "But my most immediate concern right now is you. My new appointment only endangers you further, especially where my sister is concerned."

Katara ruminated quietly over his words. Zuko's concern, like his touch, was a welcome and pleasant distraction right now. She tried to move away from the darkness and closer to what he was making her feel.

Then, she remembered…

"How's Mai?"

Zuko stiffened and looked down into his lap. "Mai is fine. She's been living here in the palace, with Azula."

Katara took note of his apparent discomfort.

_Do I want to know? Does it even matter…_

"Are you…"

They let the silence hang in the air, suspended in uncertain in-between.

"It's…complicated."

Katara let go of a breath she had been holding and pushed herself away and off the opposite side of the bed.

"It doesn't have to be," she mumbled as she walked away.

* * *

Apparently, the only thing that the Fire Nation had going for it was victory in the war. Everything else was in shambles.

Zuko was once more sitting in a meeting room surrounded by an assemblage of smart asses and imbeciles, trying to make sense of the country he was supposed to be ruling.

_At least this time I don't have to deal with Ozai or Azula._ He thought as some financial specialist prattled on about the nation's economic decline since the end of the war.

This meeting was his first official meeting as the acting Fire Lord, the primary purpose of which was to brief him on various affairs of state and introduce him to the council members in charge of each area. Basically, he had spent the past few hours buried in legal documents and reports, all of which declared the never-ending number of problems with the nation. Not only was the economy in decline, the prisons were overflowing with prisoners of war and enemies of state, and a myriad of other domestic issues within the Fire Nation had apparently gone unattended for decades due to war. Not to mention the new round of drafts that would now have to be organized to send even more troops out to aid in the North.

Meanwhile, the so-called leaders who were supposed to rectify these issues were almost all incompetent; the more time Zuko spent in these meeting rooms, the more he realized just how far and wide corruption ran among the Fire Nation leadership.

"…can't raise the taxes anymore! There'll be riots at the palace gate; the populace is angry enough that the taxes from war time still haven't been reduced," one of the council members was saying. Zuko had forgotten his name already, but he was one of the older members of council and had apparently served under his grandfather Azulon many years ago.

"In order to rebuild this nation we need money, and the only way to raise that money is more taxes," someone else said. He was clearly a wealthy nobleman, with thick gold rings on his fingers and an opulent robe wrapped around his engorged belly. "Do you know how many orphans are running around the streets stealing from vendors? They, along with all the other vermin mucking up the cities, need to be dealt with!"

Zuko stifled the urge to break something. "No, what we _need_ is to give these kids a place to sleep and food to eat," he said through gritted teeth. "The only reason they're stealing is because they've lost their parents in the war. They steal because they have no other way to survive."

"What do you suggest then, Prince Zuko?" The nobleman retorted. "With the renewed efforts in the North, we barely have any funds left to run this palace, let alone set up orphanages at every corner to house all those street rats."

"Don't forget, we also need to revise all school textbooks and curricula to include the recent events of Fire Lord Ozai's victory and introduce the new system of government under the Phoenix King!" A councilwoman chimed in.

Before long, all the other council members were talking over one another, trying to get in their opinions before the meeting adjourned.

Zuko pressed his fingers into his temples and tried to find a happy place. What would he give to just get out of the meeting and spend the day with Katara.

The older councilmen nudged Zuko. "Perhaps your majesty would like to adjourn council and reconvene at another time?"

He nodded and stood up from his seat. The room quieted as he announced the meeting over and quickly strode out the door.

Releasing a sigh of relief, he started to walk back towards his chambers. Before he could turn the corner, he heard someone calling out to him from the direction of the meeting room.

"Prince Zuko, your majesty, please wait!"

He turned, to see a councilman running to catch up to him. He was a thin, tall man and had been quiet almost the entire meeting, his name was something like Chin or Chiu. By the time he reached Zuko, he was already out of breath.

"Your majesty! I've been meaning to talk to you in private for the past few days," he said, still huffing slightly. "You see, Prince Zuko, our families have known one another for many generations now, and I wanted to personally give you my congratulations and sincere welcome into the council."

Zuko wasn't entirely sure how to react to this. Nor was he entirely sure if he had ever met any other of this man's family members before. "Thank you, I appreciate the welcome."

The councilman beamed, pulling his thick pink lips over his small pearly teeth. "Of course, I also have a small congratulations gift for your majesty," he said, taking a thin envelop from his sleeve. He handed it to Zuko and motioned for him to open it.

Hesitantly, Zuko broke the seal and took out the sheet of paper inside. It was a check with the official seal of the bank emblazoned across it in red. Zuko did a double take at the number beneath the seal.

"It's nothing really," the councilman said. "Just a token; but I do also have a small favour to ask."

Zuko narrowed his eyes at the check, which was already starting to feel heavy in his hands.

"There was quite an argument today over what to prioritize in our budget," he began. "Now, the war may be over, but the trouble both here and across our empire will no doubt continue in the years to come as the dust settles, so to speak. That being said, I hope you will agree with me on the necessity of investing in the prison system. Security needs to be increased and the facilities must be upgraded now so that we may be prepared for the future."

Zuko suddenly realized who the man was; he was Mai's uncle and the warden of the Boiling Rock as well as chief of the Fire Nations prison systems. He glanced back at the warden, who was smiling pleasantly back at him.

"I'll take your opinions into consideration," he replied blandly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my leave."

"Of course, of course. Thank you and have a nice day, your majesty," the warden gave a slight wave, still beaming, as Zuko turned and walked away.

As soon as he turned the corner, Zuko tore the check into shreds. Once again, he felt like vomiting. How he would endure a lifetime of people like the warden he didn't even know.

But with every step towards his room, his mood lifted a little. At least for today, he could shirk his duties and spend the remainder of the day with Katara.

* * *

When she came out of the bathroom, Zuko was gone.

She had been childish shutting herself away in the bathroom, but she needed to get away from him, even if for just a few minutes, to collect her scattered thoughts and emotions.

Katara had told herself earlier that she had asked about Mai to distract herself, but now, she wasn't so sure. Why _had_ she asked about Mai? Whether they were still together or not was none of her concern. So what if Zuko had a girlfriend? He was just helping her as a…

_What even are we?_ She wondered. _Friends? Acquaintances? Former enemies-turned-awkward-circumstantial-roommates?_

Katara scrubbed the sleep from her face and tried not to look at herself for too long in the mirror. Her fever was completely gone now, but the scar was just as hideous as ever. A quick inspection showed that the infection had stayed away and that it was healing properly.

She hadn't been in the bathroom long, but Zuko had clearly decided to give them both some space be leaving her alone in the room once more. He had left his breakfast on the table for her.

As Katara ate breakfast, she put Zuko out of her mind and set upon planning her prison break. First of all she documented what she did know (which was not very much): they were most likely being held in the same dungeons where she was supposed to have gone and they would be executed sooner than later, which meant that she needed to act fast. Then she went through all the information she didn't know (which was considerable): she had no idea where the dungeons where, nor where even she was in the palace and neither did she know where or when exactly the executions would be taking place. And then of course, there was the issue of how exactly she would singlehandedly break out at least three high-security Fire Nation prisoners of war from right underneath the Fire Lord's nose.

Katara needed to get more information before she could proceed any further, and for that, she would have to leave the room. Today.

She finished breakfast and began rifling through Zuko's drawers once more – this time in search of clothes to wear. Using her now freshly-cleaned and dry wrappings, she bound her breasts more tightly than usual to make herself as flat as she could, and dressed herself in Zuko's shirt and pants. Everything was too big but she made do by rolling up the cuffs on the pants and hoping that the shirt could pass as a tunic. Katara went back to the mirror and was satisfied to find that she made a passable boy.

She picked up the tray that held her breakfast, and slipped out the door. Thankfully, Zuko's quarters seemed to be in a remote section of the palace; she hadn't heard very many people pass by his room in the past few days and now the halls were completely empty. Taking a deep breath, Katara picked a direction and began to move.

The walls were adorned with red wallpaper and the wooden floors covered by long elaborately woven carpets. Golden sconces similar to but less intricate than those in Zuko's bedchambers lined the walls at regular intervals. Katara tried to remember the route she was taking so she could find her way back later, noting particular tapestries or doorways as she passed them by.

After a few minutes wandering through the halls, she encountered another human being for the first time. It was a young woman – a servant judging by the tray of steaming tea she was carrying. Katara froze as she saw her coming from the other end of the hall but quickly composed herself and began moving forward again at a normal pace. As the other woman neared, Katara's heart pounded faster and faster; would she notice her ill-fitting clothes or the scar on her face? Would she take a closer look and realize how clearly not Fire Nation she was with her dark skin and blue eyes? Just as they crossed paths, she lowered her head and raised her own tray slightly to hide her face, but the woman didn't even glance her way.

Once the servant was well out of earshot, Katara finally let go of a sigh of relief. As long as she could stay beneath the notice of everyone else, she would be fine. After another turn, she began to encounter more people; mostly servants, but also the occasional nobleman or lady, usually with their personal attendants in tow. Katara tensed up as she passed each of them but no one paid her any more attention than the first servant girl.

She seemed to have entered a more populated area of the palace; the halls were wider and she passed a few large open rooms and even a doorway into a small enclosed garden open to the skies.

Then, Katara noticed two men dressed in fine silks – probably aristocrats or officials of some sort – lingering near a meeting room, deep in conversation. As she passed by, she overheard one of them mention the Day of Black Sun. She turned the corner into an abandoned hallway and lingered there to listen to their conversation.

"…can't make it; she's got to take care of the baby."

"Oh , that's too bad. How old is the little one now?"

"Just 5 months, but he's already bending. Bugs his mother to no end that he keeps singing all her clothes but I'm just happy we've got another bender in the family."

"Sure, sure. You'll be at the executions though won't you?"

"Of course, I can't miss a function as important as this."

"Hope the weather will be cooler than it is today; it'll be hell to stand out in that sweltering heat all day."

"Well, you heard what the princess said; they've got to hold it in the Royal Plaza to make it as public as possible. They've got to send a message and everything right?"

"Yeah I guess. Hey, how about we head on over to that new noodle place that's just opened…"

As the conversation drifted off, Katara stopped listening and inconspicuously slipped passed the two noblemen again as she doubled back in the direction she came. She knew now, at least, where the execution would be taking place: the main square of the city. She still had no clue when it would be, but from what she gleaned of that conversation, it was not taking place today. At least for now, Katara could take comfort in the fact that her friends were still alive. When the time came, the public setting of the execution would make it easier for them to slip away. She just needed to make sure of the timing…

Katara realized that she had taken a wrong turn and ended up in a section of the palace she had never seen before. Here, the ceiling soared up incredibly high, and massive portraits hung from the walls. Taking a closer look, she realized that they had to be depictions of each of the past Fire Lords.

Most of the portraits showed men with long beards and thick brows, but Katara was surprised to see one or two women also staring back at her from the walls.

As she heard footsteps approach, she quickly retraced her steps, tray held firmly over her face. Fortunately, she found her way back to a familiar hall and managed to get back the rest of the way without mishap.

As she neared Zuko's quarters, she was once more thankful of its remote location; it would have been difficult to sneak back into the prince's room with other people walking around.

When she finally reached the door, she found another meal waiting for her on a table just outside the door. Quickly, she placed the breakfast tray down and picked up her lunch as she slipped back into the room. As Katara stepped once more into the familiar space, she closed her eyes and took a massive sigh of relief. She had made it out and back in one piece.

She set the food down on the table and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. Her arms were limp from carrying the heavy tray in front of her body all day and nervous sweat made her clothes cling to her body. Now that she had stopped moving, she also noticed her stomach grumbling.

As she dug in to her lunch, she realized how late in the afternoon it was; the food was already cold and the sun had long since begun its descent in the sky.

Just as she was finishing up her late meal, the door swung open to reveal Zuko, holding a plateful of pastries in one hand. He looked around the room and caught her eye, breaking into a smile as he did so.

"Hey, I brought you some baked goods from the kitchens; I thought you might like them," he said, setting the plate down in front of her. "The spicy black sesame one is my favourite."

"Thank you." It seemed that, no matter how many times it happened, every nice thing Zuko did for her was still a bit of a surprise. In the back of her head, the habit of considering him as the enemy still lingered…

He had sat down next to her on the couch, and was now looking curiously at her attire. "What were you up to today?"

"Oh, I was, uh, practicing waterbending and needed to borrow some clothes. I'm sorry I didn't ask first," she blushed in spite of herself.

"No, it's totally fine, I don't mind at all," he said, shaking his head slightly so that his hair swept across his brow. "Actually I should've thought to bring you some changes of clothes."

Katara picked up a pastry and took a bite. He was right, the spicy black sesame was delicious; even though she was already full from the late lunch, Katara ate the entire bun. Zuko had a pastry as well, before he turned to her again.

"You know, if you want to train, I can take you to the private courtyard in the palace. We'll have to watch out for people, but as long as you're with me and your dressed like that, I don't think anyone will give us any trouble," he smiled again. Katara almost did a double take; his smile was another thing that felt oddly out of character from the Zuko she had constructed in her head. What's more was, she felt dazzled by his smile; it lit up his entire face and made him seem so much more carefree and happy. It all but erased the usually intense and menacing look of his scarred face.

"Of course," he continued, still grinning. "You'll have to promise not to run away. You're not quite my prisoner but you need to understand how dangerous it is for you in this palace alright?"

Katara almost smiled back.

"Alright."

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**A/N: "Alright" is the new "Okay". (Except not really). **

**Hello everybody, look I posted a new chapter within a week this time! Yaaaay! I really can't wait to write the next one, so hopefully it will be up soon.**

**Shout-outs to ZekeTheDude, LilyAvatarLotus, Kat-Tastrophe, jbrand5, and many others for all of your lovely constructive reviews on almost every chapter; seriously your feedback is very much appreciated and definitely have an impact on my writing, so thank you!**

**storyoftheunknownfangirl: Oui, je sais parler français! Je l'ai étudié pendant à peu près 7 années. I'm a bit out of practice because I haven't taken a French course in a while, but I'm super looking forward to taking French Lit in uni next year.**

**ShamelessLiar: I totally forgot to respond to your review on the last chapter but um what so the author of my fav Zutara fanfic just read and reviewed my story IS THIS REAL LIFE. And yes, Zuzu needs adversity to grow for sure, like right now, like next chapter. (Was that a hint of what's to come? Idk, maybe… *****evil cackle*****). **


	10. Heartbeat

Chapter 9: Heartbeat

* * *

The entrails of the animals,

The blood running through.

But in order to get to the heart,

I think sometimes you'll have to cut through.

- Heartlines, Florence and the Machine

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Zuko needed to do a terrible thing. That is, apart from the other terrible things he had been doing lately.

The night before he couldn't sleep because he had realized how very wrong his feelings for Katara were. He had been so eager to see her after the frustrating meeting and then so absurdly happy when he finally did that he never once stopped to consider _why_. Now, Iroh's words flashed in his mind over and over, as if trying to mentally choke an acknowledgment of his feelings from him.

A line had been crossed when he decided to crawl into bed next to her. Somehow his mind figured that now it would be okay to let him think and daydream about her all day long. But none of that made his current feelings any more acceptable.

Needless to say, he had gone back to sleep on the couch.

Now, Zuko had been awake pretty much since the sky turned blue and well before the sun was even up, mulling over his options.

He hadn't talked to – or even seen – Mai since the celebration banquet three days ago. Whenever he wasn't in council meetings, he had been with Katara. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn't even _thought_ about Mai for the past few days.

Zuko felt like an absolute piece of shit.

The entire situation was completely twisted. He may have told Iroh he didn't know what was right or wrong anymore, but this situation was definitely, completely, categorically wrong. By general standards, by his own standards – even by Fire Nation standards.

There was nowhere for his feelings for Katara to progress; he had already hit the full extent of their possibilities – they would have to remain unspoken, half-acknowledged, not fully fleshed feelings, forever.

But, if he was again brutally honest, there wasn't anywhere his relationship with Mai could go either. And it wasn't just that he was a terrible boyfriend. With regards to romantic chemistry, theirs was volatile and unsustainable. He loved and admired Mai so much, but he couldn't live out the lie that had been designed for them since the beginning.

No, his relationship with Mai hadn't gone wrong because of his feelings for Katara. The relationship was never completely right in the first place; Katara's sudden appearance in his life just forced him to finally admit it.

With a sigh, Zuko got up. He quickly and quietly changed his clothes, cleaned his teeth and splashed his face with cold water before slipping out of the room. As he carefully pulled the door shut behind him, he caught a final glimpse of Katara, still sound asleep in bed.

It was still early morning, but Mai would be awake and at breakfast by now. She hated waking up early but that was just one of the many things that had been drilled into her as a fine Fire Nation lady. But it didn't particularly matter what time of day or mood Zuko caught her in; she would be royally pissed at him no matter what. He only hoped that she wasn't having breakfast with Azula this morning.

Thankfully, when Zuko finally found Mai in the small courtyard outside her chambers, she was alone.

He stood just underneath the shadow of the doorway for moment, just watching her in silence and mustering the courage to step past the threshold. She had her back mostly to him, and was looking out at the view of the Capital beneath the elevated grounds of the palace. Zuko couldn't see her expression from where he stood, but he could only imagined that she wasn't particularly impressed or moved by the view. He wanted to smile at the thought, but was quickly sobered by the notion of what he had come to say to her.

"Are you going to come out here and talk to me or what?" Mai suddenly said, her back still to Zuko.

"Uh yeah," he walked over to where she sat at her breakfast table, and took a seat in the chair opposite from hers. He was silent for a moment as he mirrored her body position, facing and looking out into the distance.

"I'm sorry…"

It probably wasn't the best place to start, but he needed to say it anyway.

"For what exactly?"

...She knew exactly what the apology was for.

"I haven't been very fair or…completely honest with you."

Mai didn't look at him.

"So have you slept with her then?"

"No! It's not like that at all."

Mai laughed bitterly.

"So what? Have you actually managed to develop feelings for a girl this time around?"

Zuko flinched. That one stung.

"This is not about her. It's about us. _This_, us…it hasn't felt right for a long time."

He sighed.

"I know…how lucky I am to have you…you're so important to me and I respect you so so much…but I still can't force myself into this arranged relationship."

"…"

"We both feel it, the pressure to be a couple, get married, have royal babies…do you really think we could spend the rest of our lives like that?"

Mai turned her head away from slightly so that Zuko could just barely see the tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth.

"The two of us – of all people, we're the least capable of following orders like that…"

He fell silent, waiting for her to respond. Mai was completely still, face turned away from him. The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. The fog of the early summer morning hung in the air, mugging up every breath but in the shadow of the palace, the courtyard was cold.

When Mai finally spoke, her voice shook.

"Do you _really_ believe that I was with you because of other people's expectations of us?"

Zuko didn't reply and stared down into his palms.

Mai laughed again.

"You know what? You're actually right on that point."

He heard her shift in her seat to face him again. "I would _never_ force myself into a relationship I didn't want to be in, and you're a bastard if you haven't realized that by now."

Her next laugh was bordering on a choked sob.

"Which, I suppose makes me an idiot for having stayed with you for so long. I once believed that you felt the same way…I thought we were so alike in the face of this oppressive regime, these stuffy nobles, their insufferable rules…I thought we would brave it together."

Zuko was at a loss for words. He never knew Mai cared for him so much…but then again, _he_ had never cared enough to ask. When he finally looked up at her again, her head was down and her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. Her hands gripped the seat of her chair so tightly her fingers had turned white.

He felt something in the pit of his stomach twist painfully with self-loathing. Every callous oversight, every shallow offense he had every committed towards this girl seem to ooze from the pores of his soul. How could he have missed…how Mai had had a crush on him when they were kids, how Ty Lee and Azula teased them both for it, how excessively angry she had been when she found out he had been banished…

On the ship back to the Capital from Ba Sing Se, she had found him and comforted him as he was tormented by the ghosts of his past. She had been patient, playful, kind, passionate. She had given him so much of herself…and what had he given her back in return?

"Mai…" He stood slowly from his chair. He wanted to move closer but kept his distance. "I…I'm terrible at this, at relationships, at emotions. But you have to know that I have – I _do_ love you. I may not show it but this…you're one of the strongest people I know and I don't know where I would be without everything you've done for me…

"If we had met under different circumstances, we could have made this work. But –"

There was a blur of red, a flash of gleaming metal, and the sound of something whistling through the air and -

- when Zuko looked down, the hilt of a stiletto dagger was protruding from his outer left shoulder.

"Do _not_ tell me how this could have worked out differently," Mai hissed. Zuko looked back to her, pain barely registering as the shock froze his body and locked his tongue. Her chair had fallen back and she was standing with knees bent and legs apart. Her mouth was twisted into a snarl but her face was surprisingly free of tears. Her eyes, although brimming over with water, were blazing with wrath.

"How dare you…how _dare_ you stand there and tell me you love me," her voice was low and steady even as the first tear rolled down her face. "You don't deserve to say you loved me; you have done _nothing_ that shows you even care about me, let alone love me."

Zuko stayed frozen on the spot, but he could feel the blood beginning to seep out of his wound and soak into his shirt. He was still numb to the pain; the intense ache somewhere between his heart and his head blacked that out.

Mai took one step forward, and then another. She held her eyes firmly on his. They were filled with hurt but still pierced through him with vehement accusation. She stopped with her toes almost touching his. Her eyes flicked down to her knife, still in his shoulder.

"_I_ loved you," she whispered into his chest. "I loved you and you broke me."

She tilted her head up to look, once more, into Zuko's eyes. Their faces were mere inches apart, and to an outsider, they would have looked like a couple about to kiss…

"You can keep the knife."

Mai stepped back and walked away.

* * *

Katara was in the middle of her second set of waterbending forms when Zuko came back to the room, covered in blood.

When she saw him standing in the doorway, the water that she had had suspended in the air suddenly dropped to the ground.

She stood there, shocked motionless for a second, before Zuko swayed to one side and she had to jump to hold him up before he fell.

"Shit, Zuko…what happened to you," she breathed as she lifted his right arm over her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his torso. The entire left side of his body was covered in blood, and a dagger was sticking out of his left shoulder. His eyes were unfocussed and blinking weakly. As soon as Katara reached him, he leaned almost his entire body weight onto her, and, with a considerable effort, she managed to manoeuvre them both over to the couch.

She lay him down so that his left side faced out, and began to examine his wound. The dagger was short but buried fully into his body, just underneath his collarbone. She ripped open his shirt to look at the wound more closely. Katara could tell at once that whoever did this had been extremely precise; the wound was strategically placed between bones and away from major muscles. The aggressor had clearly not aimed to kill but had rather stabbed him in a non-lethal area.

Nevertheless, Zuko had lost a significant amount of blood and was still bleeding. Katara glanced to his face to see him closing his eyes.

"Zuko," she placed her hands on either side of his face. "You have to stay awake, okay? You can't fall asleep right now, no matter how tired you feel."

He opened his eyes and looked back at her with his eyes slightly glazed over."

"I need to get clean water; you have to promise me to stay awake, can you do that?"

He groaned weakly. Katara quickly straightened up and ran to the bathroom. She didn't have time to boil water and she could hardly ask Zuko to firebend for her right now. The only thing she could do was try to bend out the impurities from the water - which took immense amounts of energy - and hope for the best.

She filled a sink with water and began to work. It was a slow and incredibly arduous process; she just about had to feel out every tiny piece of dust in the water and remove it. Pretty quickly, she could feel sweat coursing down her neck face and neck. After a few minutes, the water had become brilliantly clear.

_But would it be enough?_ She thought. An infection on a wound like this could kill him...

With no more time to lose, she gathered the purified water into an orb and sprinted back to Zuko. Incredibly, he had heeded her words and had managed to keep his eyes just barely open.

Using one hand to keep the water suspended in the air, Katara closed the fingers of her other hand around the slim hilt of the dagger.

"Zuko, can you hear me? This is going to hurt, okay, but I need you to stay still," she braced herself and took a breath. "Ready...1…2…-"

She pulled sharply and the blade came out straight up. Zuko made a tortured noise somewhere between a groan and a yelp deep in the back of his throat. Katara discarded the dagger safely underneath the table and immediately applied the water to the open wound, which had already begun to bleed copiously.

As the water began to glow blue, Katara could see Zuko's blood mixing in with the water, creating smoke-like swirls of red amongst the silvery blue.

"Talk to me Zuko, remember you can't fall asleep," she said aloud as she sensed out the energy paths through his body. "Tell me how you feel right now."

Zuko was breathing heavily, and Katara could feel his heart beating rapidly through the blood flowing into his shoulder.

"…hot…it's…hot…" he mumbled. Katara drew his chi towards his wound, directing his own body's energy towards the severest damage.

"You're body is just trying to heal itself right now, which is why you're temperature is up and you're heart is beating so fast," she said to Zuko. "Try to steady your breathing alright?"

She redirected the chi first to the deepest part of the stab wound, several inches into his flesh, and slowly worked up and around as she felt the muscle and flesh regenerate and knit back together. Her own heart was beating feverishly in her chest. She had blood all over her hands and her forearms. Blood was now smeared across Zuko's face from where she had touched him earlier. The dark red stood out sharply against his pale skin, which had been almost completely drained of colour from blood loss.

If his eyes were closed he would have looked like a bloodied corpse…

"You're going to be fine…I promise you'll be fine, you'll be fine…" Katara breathed the words like a mantra. They were more for her sanity than for his.

Zuko was staring at the ceiling, eyes unfocussed and mumbling something incoherent. As Katara continued to heal him, she began to make out some of the words he was repeating over and over "…my fault…my fault…"

After a few more long minutes, she finally finished. Zuko had quieted down and was now watching her calmly as she cleaned up his shoulder. All that remained of the stab wound was an irritated patch of skin and a thin, straight line of raised skin where the dagger had entered his shoulder. Katara checked the wound one last time before finally breathing a sigh of relief and allowing herself to relax.

All in all, the process had drained a massive amount of energy from her body, leaving her breathless and drenched in sweat. She sagged down onto the ground and leaned her shoulder into the couch, unable to hold her body upright any longer.

Zuko, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered considerably. Katara had her head resting gently against the crook of his left arm - more out of necessity than anything else - and could hear the gentle beating of his heart and feel the soft, regular rise and fall of his chest.

"…thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome."

She closed her eyes. "Who was it?"

She felt him sigh; the sound was muffled, and she could imagine him passing a hand over his face.

"I broke up with Mai; I kind of messed it up really badly."

"The break up or the relationship?"

"Both…everything. To be honest, she went easy on me. I deserved worse."

"That bad?"

"That bad."

Katara, though still tired, had finally caught her breath. She lifted her head off his arm and twisted her torso around so she could place a hand on his forehead.

"Your temperature has gone down…"

At such close proximity and after having just healed him, Katara could very intimately feel the pulse of his blood through his body. She could sense his heartbeat spike suddenly at her touch.

Zuko was still deathly pale and drenched in blood. And yet, in that moment, Katara was suddenly struck by how very much _alive_ he was. His golden eyes, his warm breathe, his unwavering heartbeat, thumping like a caged bird in his chest.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine…" His voice was nonchalant but the intensity of his eyes on hers betrayed his relief.

She slid her hand slowly down to cup his face.

"You really scared me back there…" she whispered softly, running her thumb gently over the ridges of his scar.

He placed his right hand over hers. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

She smiled but her voice caught in her throat as she spoke again. "Get stabbed or be a bad boyfriend?"

With his right hand still staying hers against his cheek, he used his other arm - his good arm - to push himself up to sitting. Katara had to rise up on her knees to still reach him. He gazed at her unwaveringly as he raised his other hand to caress her deformed cheek.

"Both."

He leaned in first.

But only because Katara's hand pulled him down to her.

He, in turn, snaked his arms around her waist and pull her closer to him.

Katara reflected that this was the first time Zuko had ever felt cold under her touch.

They drew closer.

And stopped.

...

Then, she tilted her chin up and caught his mouth with hers. Every second thought evaporated from her mind. There was only him and her, this and now, how good and right it felt.

His lips were warm but his hands were still cold against her back. He smelled of summer and rain but also of blood and metal. The slight tremble in his hands and the catch in his breath told her he was just as nervous as she was.

She was dying to taste him but tore herself away, tugging his head back with fingers entwined in his hair, before she would.

He blinked and froze around her as he watched her face for the regret, the horror, the rejection. He looked so tense and bewildered that she couldn't stop herself from resting her lips gently to his one last time before pulling back.

"We both need to rest," she explained, removing his arms from around her waist and standing up. "You stay here and sleep; I need to clean up and take a shower."

Zuko looked like he was about to protest but his exhaustion won out and he lay back down. Katara turned away and began to blood out from the floor and the couch.

"You can bend blood?"

She froze, droplets of blood suspended mid-motion in the air. _I don't want to but…_

"Yes."

He didn't press the subject. When she turned around again he was already fast asleep.

Katara bent down to pick up the small dagger. She recognized it now as one of Mai's throwing knives. She looked back down at Zuko, eyes closed, still covered in blood…

He needed her just as much as she needed him. It didn't make what they had done any less wrong or any more right but…

That was the only thing that made sense in her life and she clung to it like a dying woman.

* * *

Zuko woke up to the smell of food.

"Eat."

He looked up to see Katara perched on the edge of the bed, her hair slightly mussed from sleep. She pointed to the food on the table.

"You lost a lot of blood and your body still has a lot of healing to do on its own," she continued. "So eat."

Zuko pushed himself up to sitting; there was a dull ache in his shoulder but he seemed otherwise okay. He looked back at Katara. She hadn't mentioned how the healing had affected her but, considering how she had collapsed to the ground afterwards, it must have drained her considerably.

"I'm not eating unless you have some too," he said.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, but slid down from the bed to sit on the ground on the opposite side of the table. She grabbed a roll and took a bite. "Happy now?" she said, chewing.

He grinned. "Quite."

"I'm not the one who got stabbed you know," she said wryly, watching him as he picked up a bowl and began to eat.

"Maybe not, but just a few days ago you were practically dying of dehydration and infected burn wounds, so maybe you should take care of yourself a bit more," he retorted.

She pursed her lips but refused to take more food, just watching him eat.

Zuko gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine, look I need to wash up and change first but then we're going out and finding you some more food to eat okay?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He stood up and walked towards the bathroom. "Sure, I feel fine and as long as you're with me no one will bother you."

When he emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed, Katara was looking out the window.

No matter how much protection Zuko could give her, they both knew there was no way she could go free. The Fire Nation would track her down wherever she went and kill her on the spot. Even in the palace, _especially_ in the palace, she could only leave this room if he was with her.

Zuko felt the torn, watching her stare out at a freedom she could not have and that he could never give her. No matter how _good_ or _right_ they felt…there was no possible way any of this could turn out well.

But for now, he just wanted to ignore it all and pretend.

"Hey, you okay?"

She whirled around at the sound of his voice. "I'm fine, let's go."

He led her towards the turtleduck garden. It was in an enclosed area near his wing of the palace that was restricted to the royal family and their guests. They wouldn't have to worry about keeping Katara beneath notice there. On their way, Zuko stopped by the kitchen closest to his rooms to grab a pot of tea and a plate of fruit and bread for her.

They walked next to each other silently. He wondered what she was thinking, what she could be feeling. Their entire situation was so tenuous…they were living in limbo and every condition of their being both _okay_ and _together_ hung in the balance. In an instant, reality would bring this beautiful lie crashing down around them.

When they arrived in the garden, he set her food down at a rock table and gestured for her to sit. He took the seat opposite and poured her a cup of tea. He proceeded to watch her as she ate. She, in turn, looked everywhere but at him as she chewed silently. Her eyes moved from the trees swaying in the summer breeze to the small gaggle of turtleducks splashing in the pond.

It was sometime in the afternoon and the sun was high and bright in the clear blue sky. Birds chirped in the distance and an occasional butterfly would flit through the flowers and the grass. The day was serene, perfect…

But none of it felt right.

If anything, Zuko felt like his body was still covered in gore and guilt. What he had done to Mai was inexcusable, and to toy with Katara's feelings this way was even worse. They both knew this arrangement was a farce, but him much more so than her, for he knew fully what he would have to do to her family, her friends. He repulsed even himself as he thought of how truly perverse the circumstances of their relationship were.

Suddenly, Katara slammed her cup of tea down onto the granite tabletop. Zuko watched as steaming liquid sloshed from the rim of the cup.

"What is happening, Zuko," she sounded exasperated and tired and confused. "What are we even doing right now."

He placed his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. Mumbling through his fingers he replied, "I don't know."

He slid his hands down to press them together in front of his lips, almost as if in prayer. He frowned into his hands but held her gaze steadily. "I can't let you go, but I can't send you to the gallows, either. I just - I want you to trust me, to see that I've changed…but I don't know if I can even guarantee your safety here."

She propped her chin up on her right hand. With her other hand, she gripped her right wrist, and stared once more into his soul. Zuko felt like he was melting underneath her gaze. All of her accusation, suspicion, and apprehension lay beneath the blue of her eyes. They were just waiting for him to confess and to prove definitively that he was cruel and dangerous and forever and always _the enemy_.

He reached out towards her and lay his hands down flat on the table. "Katara, I don't think you can understand how much your wellbeing means to me…I can understand if you still despise me, even fear me, but, I _beg_ you, just trust that everything I do is to protect you."

She watched him as he lay his hands before her, pleaded with her. She was silent, staring wistfully at his arms on the table.

"What have you done…" she whispered quietly.

Zuko swallowed. But before he could open his mouth to speak -

"Oh my, what have we here?"

Azula's sharp honeyed voice suddenly broke the silence.

Zuko whipped his head around to see her leaning casually against the circular entrance into the garden, lips drawn back in a smirk and eyes glinting in the sun.

"A little couple's getaway? I do hope I'm not interrupting…" she drawled, as she crossed one leg over the other, the picture of measured ease.

Zuko's heart pounded in his chest. Azula had stayed away from him for now, but, of all times, she had decided to suddenly materialize in this moment._ God damn it, Azula…_

He stood and moved surreptitiously to block Katara from her view.

"We were just leaving, actually," his voice sounded tight even to his own ears.

"Are you not even going to pretend to ask me to join you, Zuzu?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and tilting her head to one side. "I'm hurt; you would think that my own brother would introduce me to the new woman in his life. But I suppose it's still a bit soon for family introductions isn't it, seeing as you just broke up with Mai - let me see, when was it now? Oh yes, this very morning."

Zuko flared his nostrils and clenched his fists within the sleeves of his robe.

Azula uncrossed her legs and strolled towards them. Zuko stepped back and held his arms out slightly behind him to shield Katara more fully with his own body.

"Relax, I'm not here to make a mess - I wouldn't disrespect our dear mother's favourite garden in that way" Azula said, rolling her eyes, as she continued to approach. He only tensed further and followed her every move scrupulously with his eyes. He could sense that Katara had stood up behind him.

Azula stopped a few feet from their table and looked past his shoulder at Katara. "I'm sorry about your face," she said, pursing her lips. " I absolutely do not condone unnecessary cruelty towards our captives. I prefer, how would you say, a more…efficient method of dealing with uncooperative prisoners."

She turned back towards Zuko, smiling brilliantly. "But Zuko would know much more about that, wouldn't you?"

"What is she talking about?" Katara hissed from behind him.

Zuko felt beads of sweat coursing down the sides of his neck and face. He grit his teeth as he tried not to curse out loud.

"Azula, don't," he muttered through his teeth.

"Oh, she doesn't know?" she replied, eyes widening in feigned shock. She looked back at Katara. "Zuko's organized his first big event as the reigning Fire Lord; it's a very large, public affair, a lot of tedious planning and all that. But our Zuzu's done a wonderful job with it and we're all terribly proud of him."

Zuko's eyes were bulging from his head; he shook his head almost imperceptibly at Azula. He silently mouthed: _Don't do this._

She gave him a knowing look and then tapped her temple with one finger as if deep in thought. "But I'm getting off topic; what I meant to come talk to you about was something entirely different. What was it again? Ah, yes! I just wanted to know when you were planning on heading down to the executions in the plaza tomorrow. I was thinking that we ought to coordinate our entrances, you know, as this is the first public outing since our new titles and positions and all."

He could literally feel the temperature in the air around him suddenly plummet as Katara bristled behind him. She suddenly grasped the back of his shirt with one hand. "What executions," she said in a dangerously low voice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I really shouldn't even be mentioning this in front of you," Azula said with a smile still plastered on her face. "My condolences. Zuko, we'll figure out the details later then."

She turned away and fluttered her fingers in the air. "Enjoy the weather you two, bye for now!"

As she disappeared behind the doorway, Zuko felt Katara's grip on his shirt tighten.

"Zuko, what was she talking about," her voice was trembling now.

He turned around and grasped her shoulders. "Katara, you have to _promise_ me you won't try to break them out tomorrow. If _they_ see you there, they'll haul you up and hang you next to them."

Her body went limp as her eyes widened in shock. "No…"

"Katara," he gripped her shoulders tighter and his voice strained with effort. "_Please _stay in your room tomorrow…please."

"It's happening tomorrow…" she said quietly, eyes no longer focused on his, but somewhere far off.

"I'm so, so sorry Katara…but I need you to promise me you'll stay safe. I can't stay with you tomorrow but you absolutely must not leave the room," Zuko cupped her face in his hands and turned her head gently back to face him. "Please, promise me…"

Her eyes were glistening under the warm rays of golden sunlight. They slowly came back into focus on his eyes. Tears streamed down her face and onto his hands.

Her face broke before his eyes and she raised her hands to pull his away. But she continued to hold his gaze. After another heartbeat, she gave her chin the slightest tilt downward in acknowledgment of his pleas.

He didn't know if it would be enough, but for now it was all that he could hope for.

.

.

.

**A/N: This was a tough one to write but god was it a satisfying one. I didn't plan out each scene in as much detail as prior or later chapters but I've been envisioning a few of them in my head over the last couple of days. This is the longest chapter so far (+5.5k words and 14 pages on word…) but it's the most jam-packed yet. I was tempted to end the chapter after the kiss just to give these two a break buuuut shit needed to go down to set up the next chapter…**

**I was dying to get this one out and now I'm dying to get the next one out. Just dying.**

**(I'm horrible I know.)**

**(Thanks, as always for the reviews, favs, and follows!)**

**A/N 2: I edited this chapter a tiny bit because a few bits and pieces were bothering me. No big changes just nitpicky stuff. I also fixed the location of the executions to the Royal Plaza which, as I have recently discovered, is what the setting of Zuko/Azula's return from Ba Sing Se + Ozai's Phoenix King announcement in the show is called. ****(In case anyone notices the changes from when I first posted this).**


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